


A Girl Like You

by FrankenSpine



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A LOT of magic cock, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Angst, Beach House, Bisexuality, Blood and Torture, Bondage, Character Death, Cheating, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Identity Issues, Kidnapping, Magic, Magic Cock, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Mutilation, Original Mythology, Painplay, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2019-10-07 13:56:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 36,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankenSpine/pseuds/FrankenSpine
Summary: When a young boy shows up at Emma Swan's apartment, claiming to be her son, she thinks things can't possibly get any stranger.  That is, until he starts insisting that his adoptive mother is really an ancient Goddess of Death.  Emma brushes it off as the vivid imagination of a child, but she quickly comes to find that there is far more to Regina Mills than meets the eye.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> The song I listen to while writing this is 'A Girl Like You' (hence the title) by Edwyn Collins, who sounds an awful lot like David Bowie (RIP). 
> 
> "You've made me acknowledge the devil in me.  
> I hope to God I'm talkin' metaphorically.  
> Hope that I'm talkin' allegorically.  
> Know that I'm talkin' about the way I feel,  
> And I've never known a girl like you before."

Once Upon a Time, long before mankind began recording their history, there existed a great pantheon of powerful beings. These beings had many names. Gods. Deities. Celestials. Immortals. Titans. Spirits. Regardless, they were the purest of creatures. They knew not what it was to be corrupted. To them, death was but a myth. There was no force in the universe that could leave so much as a scratch upon their ethereal bodies, for they were not of flesh, but of magic itself. These beings were ancient. So ancient, in fact, that they knew not where they came from, nor what their true names were. Which is why they chose names of their very own. Names they felt suited them far better.

For many eons, these beings existed together in tranquility. Eventually, however, they became restless. They desired more. They wanted to do more. To _be_ more. Just as they took on names of their own, so, too, did they assume new forms. Physical forms. It was in that moment that they discovered the concepts of beauty and lust. They also discovered love, and all was well within the universe.

That is, until they discovered hate.

The first to feel contempt for the other beings was the one called Rumplestiltskin. Why he chose such a name was beyond them, but that was the least of their concerns. For the first time in their existence, these beings learned what it was to be afraid. Truly afraid. Rumplestiltskin— or the Dark One, as he would soon come to be known— became cruel. Cunning. Cold. He grew more sinister by the day, plotting to overthrow his fellow immortals and create an entire world which he could manipulate to do his bidding. As a deity, he already had all the power in the universe, but that just wasn’t enough for him. He wanted— no, _needed—_ more.

The Dark One knew he would need allies to aid him in conquering the other immortals, and so he corrupted the youngest of them all— the one who called herself Regina. The one he desired to have as his Queen. She, however, did not wish to rule by his side. She wanted to betray him the way he intended to betray the rest of the pantheon. The others eventually learned of his dastardly plans, and when confronted, he pinned the blame on Regina.

She was cast into a pit of fire and ash, left to spend the rest of eternity in exile. As for the Dark One, the other immortals forged a powerful dagger that could contain his very soul, and in turn, his magic. It was this mighty blade that would give him power, and so they vowed to keep it hidden from him until the end of time. They could not allow him to overthrow them. So, too, was the Dark One exiled. He was cursed to spend eternity in the dark depths of the void where Regina had been banished, forever weighted at the ankles by the shackles of his sins. Sometime later, without either of them realizing it, the other beings created mankind.

Unlike the immortals, the humans could end each other’s existence. Thus, the concept of life and death was born. As humans had souls, these souls needed a place to go after departing from their physical bodies. It was decreed that the good souls would ascend to the realm of light, where the immortals resided, and the souls of the wicked would be plunged into the fiery realm where the one known as Regina and the Dark One spent their days. In order to prevent the wicked souls from escaping their damnation, the immortals appointed Regina to serve as the warden of this shadowy prison.

But Regina was not satisfied with this. Before long, she deemed this blackened void the Underworld, and declared herself its Queen. All the while, the Dark One watched silently from the sidelines while the Queen punished the souls accordingly.

The greedy were boiled in molten gold. The wrathful were made to stab and ravage one another for eternity. The vain were trapped within mirrors, forced to gaze upon others, rather than themselves. The gluttonous were given all the food they could ever desire, though it all turned to ash once it met their tongues— and still, they hungered for more. The envious were tempted by all the things they wished they could have possessed in life, yet each time they went to retrieve these things, they grew farther and farther away. The idle were subjected to relentless, backbreaking labor, unable to find so much as a moment’s rest. As for the lustful, they were left to explore their carnal desires, yet each time they touched, they were overcome with an excruciating pain that could not be described in words— and still they yearned for pleasure.

As humanity began to flourish, the immortals came down every once in a while to check up on things, although because time had yet to be established, a thousand years to a human was but a moment to a deity. Mankind revered the immortals for their divine power and wisdom, going so far as to build temples and shrines in their honor and creating an entire system of devotion towards them.

It took millennia for the humans to learn of the Queen of the Underworld, when the being called Snow revealed the Queen’s existence to some of her followers, as she was never one to keep secrets. Before long, they began worshipping the Queen, as well. This angered Snow and the other immortals, who chose to punish any and all who paid tribute to the one they called the Goddess of Death. The Empress of the Night. Mother Moon. They gave her many names, but their devotion to her only grew stronger with each passing day.

Snow became increasingly-jealous and petty to the point that she would rather prevent the worship of any deity than allow her creations to favor that wretched Queen of the Dead over her. She was the one who deserved to be worshipped! Not the Queen! She loathed the mere notion of humanity praising the Queen instead of her. Of course, the Queen absolutely reveled in the devotion, as well as Snow’s suffering. This only made Snow’s rage skyrocket. Eventually, it became such a problem that Snow actually went through with her plan to destroy the temples built in the Queen’s honor.

This sparked a terrible war among the Gods. Little did they know, humanity had already forgotten about them. The humans were now worshipping new deities and even several mortal prophets who claimed to possess divine powers. As a result, the power of the Gods began to weaken drastically. Their bodies began to shrink, until finally, they were no bigger than the average human. They still retained a great deal of power, but they no longer held the glory they once had. Eventually, they knew they would need to find a place to settle, and so they chose Earth as their new home. They would live among the humans as best as they knew how. Even the Queen was permitted to join them, as they had all lost their memories of the past, and why exactly she’d been banished in the first place.

But the Queen did not forget.

She used what little power she had left to cast a terrible curse over the other immortals, leaving them in a permanent haze, not knowing who they were, how they came to be, or what their purpose was in life. And to top it all off, the one known as Regina began to rule over the living, as well, in a little town called Storybrooke, Maine.

But for her, one measly town just wasn’t enough.


	2. Storybrooke

Emma couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. Driving a kid back to Maine all the way from Boston, when she could have been doing far more important things, like lounging on the couch in her underwear and gorging herself on mint-chocolate ice cream. Okay, well, maybe that wasn’t very important, but it was definitely more preferable for someone like her— especially after the shitty day she’d had. Hell, the shitty week. No, that still didn’t cut it. Her entire life had been shitty!

Abandoned in the middle of the woods by two scumbags who didn’t even take the time to drop her off at a fucking hospital. Left to grow up in the system, in the ‘care’ of even bigger scumbags who pushed her around all her life. Could she really even call it a life? She never really felt _alive,_ per se. She just sort of _existed._ She never felt comfortable in her own skin. It was almost as if she was wearing a flesh-suit with no zipper, and yet, she couldn’t help thinking there was something more to what she was feeling. She’d never been particularly religious, but she had always felt at least some sort of connection with whatever the hell was out there.

She just hadn’t thought much of it until the strange kid in her car started rambling on about how his hometown— _Storybrooke—_ was inhabited by a bunch of washed-up Gods who didn’t know who they were. As if it wasn’t ridiculous enough, the boy insisted she was a Goddess, too, and that it was her ‘destiny’ to destroy— yes, _destroy—_ his adoptive mother, whom he claimed was the malevolent Goddess of Death.

Of course, Emma wasn’t buying it. She wouldn’t allow herself to. However, there was no denying that the boy was telling the truth, and that unnerved her. She wanted to think that he was simply convinced he was right, but deep down, she knew this wasn’t the case. This boy, Henry, was dead-set on getting her to believe in his insane theory.

Maybe he was being abused. That was what truly worried Emma, having gone through such things more times than she liked to remember. Perhaps this was just his way of making sense of it all. Perhaps he was simply trying to come up with some reason— any reason— as to why his mother would be abusing him, pinning it on some bizarre story instead of the underlying evil that all humans possessed.

“Has your mom ever done anything to hurt you? Has she hit you? Tell me you don’t have bruises, kid.”

“No, nothing like that,” the boy said quietly, “She’s just evil.”

“Evil? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“She is, I swear!”

“What makes you say that? Does she yell at you? Berate you? Tell you you’re worthless?”

“No, she would never say things like that.”

“Then why? Why call her evil?”

“Because she just is! She has this bad vibe about her!” Henry argued, “You’d just have to be around her to know what I mean!”

Emma sighed. “Look, kid, you can’t just say your mom’s ‘evil’ for no reason. I’m sure it really hurts her to hear you say things like that. If she doesn’t hurt you or berate you, then what has she done to deserve this? Huh? And don’t give me the whole ‘Goddess of Death’ thing again.”

“She is, though! I’m telling the truth! You have to believe me!”

“Why? Why should I? I’m twenty-eight, kid. I’ve never seen any evidence of divinity, and even there is something out there, I seriously doubt it’s in _Storybrooke, Maine._ Why not somewhere more vibrant? Like New York, or Vegas? You know, I hear about ‘devils’ all the time. They say there’s that Daredevil guy over in Hell’s Kitchen. Then there’s the Jersey Devil, and that dude in Los Angeles who claims he’s the Devil himself.”

“My mom isn’t the Devil! Well, I guess she’s sort of like the Devil. She did used to rule over the dead. She was the one who decided their punishments and—”

“Alright, enough!” shouted Emma, “There is no way your mom is the Devil. That wasn’t what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I was trying to explain that all of those things are just stories. They’re made up. There is no such thing as Devils or Angels, and from what I can tell, there aren’t any Gods, either. If there are, they definitely aren’t _here.”_

“But you’re a God! And I guess that makes me one, too!”

“I’m not a God, Henry! I’m just a woman! An ordinary, bland woman, whose life has no meaning!”

“Everyone’s life has meaning! Why do you have to be so pessimistic?”

“Never had any reason to be an optimist, kid,” said Emma.

“Well, you do now!”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I’m gonna prove to you that you really are an immortal!”

“Whoa, kid, hold on! I’m not immortal! I’m just a fast healer, is all.”

“How fast?”

“Huh? I don’t know, it depends.”

Thankfully for Emma, the boy was silent after that, at least until they finally reached this mysterious ‘Storybrooke,’ hidden in the woods out in the middle of nowhere, with no other towns for at least two-hundred miles. How Henry got that far by himself was beyond her. He wouldn’t tell her whenever she brought up that curious fact.

“So, where’s your house?”

Henry was hesitant. “Please don’t take me back there!” he begged.

“Sorry, kid, I’ve got to get you back to your parents.”

“I don’t have parents! Just a mom, and I already told you, she’s evil!”

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?”

After finally getting a confession out of the boy, Emma drove him to his house and was shocked to find that it was not only a mansion, but that it belonged to the Mayor.

“Your mom is the _Mayor?_ Wow, Henry. I have to admit, I’m not the biggest fan of politicians, but even I wouldn’t go so far as say they’re _evil.”_

“No! You don’t understand!”

Emma pulled up in front of the mansion, and before she could get another word out, the kid was already out of the car and rushing up to the front door, where a distraught brunette was waiting with a bearded man— his father, maybe? Emma made her way up to the house, feeling like she needed to explain everything to the kid’s mother.

“Henry! Where have you been?!”

The brunette was in tears, yet she was by far the most beautiful woman Emma had ever laid eyes on. It was like she was the flame, and Emma was the moth. There was something about her that the blonde couldn’t quite place, but it was _far_ from ‘evil.’ She seemed to exude sex appeal. She certainly looked like a Goddess ought to look. There was no denying _that._

“I found my REAL mom!” Henry declared before rushing past her and into the house, leaving her stunned as she locked eyes with the mysterious blonde approaching her from the sidewalk.

The brunette struggled to find her voice. _“You’re_ Henry’s birth mother?”

“Hi,” Emma said sheepishly.

The Mayor composed herself and put on her best politician’s smile. “How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you ever tasted?”

“Got anything stronger?”


	3. The Horned Queen

Regina Mills, as it turned out, was a puzzle whose pieces didn’t quite fit together. Emma couldn’t make sense of her. Not yet, anyway. She certainly didn’t seem ‘evil,’ but there was a strange vibe about her that Emma found both bewildering and— oddly enough— _arousing._ If she was, in fact, a Goddess, it had to be of desire, not death.

“So, Miss Swan,” said Regina, “what is it that you do?”

“I’m a bail-bondsman. Err, bail-bonds _person.”_

The Mayor chuckled softly. “Interesting. I take it you’re a bounty hunter, then?”

“Close, but not quite,” said Emma, “The people I catch have to be brought in alive.”

“Shame. Those criminals all deserve a bit of divine punishment.”

“Divine, huh? Are you a woman of faith, Madame Mayor?”

A slight smirk graced the brunette’s lips. “But of course. I have always been a firm believer. We just don’t quite see eye-to-eye at times.”

There was something about the way she said this that Emma found strange, but what that ‘something’ was remained unclear. Emma brushed it off, instead focusing on the woman’s body language. She was smiling, though it seemed forced, and her movements were stiff. She crossed one leg over the other and sat back with her hands folded securely in her lap. She was likely just stressed out about her son running away to Boston, of all places, but there was something else at play here. Emma could feel it.

“What about you, Miss Swan? Are you a god-fearing woman?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘god-fearing.’ I don’t know what’s out there, but I’ve always suspected it’s _something._ I mean, this couldn’t have all happened on its own, right? I’d like to think someone made all this. It’s a much nicer thought.”

“Nicer than what?”

“Nicer than evolution. I mean, I’m not a science-denier or anything. I just prefer the idea that it was all a part of someone’s plan. Whether or not that’s ‘God,’ I have no idea.”

“Fascinating,” said Regina, “I’ve never heard such an answer. I must admit, I am intrigued by you, Miss Swan.”

“Please, call me Emma.”

The Mayor smiled, though it seemed genuine this time. “Right. Of course, _Em-ma.”_

Emma shuddered involuntarily as she heard the brunette utter her name in a seductive husk. The woman’s tone was practically _dripping_ with desire.

“So,” Regina continued, “Tell me something interesting about yourself.”

“Not much to tell, aside from my job. I’d say it’s the most interesting thing about me, and even that’s not very interesting.”

“Oh, I must disagree,” replied the Mayor, “but there must be something else. A hobby? A talent?”

“I have what I like to call a ‘superpower.’ I can tell when someone is lying to me.”

“Well, that _is_ quite the skill,” said Regina, “I have to say, I’m a bit jealous.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have it. Ignorance really is bliss, you know? There are just some things I would rather _not_ know.”

“Understandable,” replied the Mayor, “Since we’re on the subject, I have a little ability of my own.”

“Yeah?”

The Mayor hid her smirk behind her glass as she sipped her bourbon. “I am extraordinarily flexible. Among other things.”

A faint blush spread across Emma’s cheeks. _“O-Oh?”_

“I can see that you find me attractive,” said Regina, “Believe me, _Em-ma,_ when I say that I, too, find you attractive. Hell, you’re beautiful. Stunning. I would like nothing more than to have you in my bed. That is, except for hearing you confess your sins to me so that I can punish you accordingly.”

“What are you gonna do? Swat my hands with a ruler?”

“I’m not a nun, Emma, nor am I Catholic.”

“Then what—”

“I am a practitioner of the darkest religion.”

“So you’re a Satanist?”

“No. Satan is but a myth. A sham.  I am much, _much_ worse.”

_“…What?”_

“Come now, Emma. I know Henry told you about me.”

“Huh? You mean the whole ‘Goddess’ thing?”

“Precisely.”

“Oh come on! You can’t seriously think you’re a Goddess, too!”

“I don’t think. I _know.”_

“Do something ‘godly’ then, Madame Mayor! Why don’t you prove it to me? Huh?”

“I have many abilities,” said Regina, “Is there anything in particular you wish to see?”

“If you really are a Goddess, then why would you want me to know it? Don’t you want to, I don’t know, keep your identity secret?”

Regina threw her head back and let out a rich, hearty laugh. “It is your belief in me that gives me power,” she said, “I need to convince you, Emma, that not only am I a Goddess, but that you are, as well. And as for Henry, well, he is merely a Demigod.”

“I’m not a Goddess, and neither are you!” Emma protested.

“Don’t play games with me, Emma. I sensed your aura the moment you crossed the town line. You are indeed a Goddess, though I have never seen you before, nor have I ever felt your incredible aura. I must know who you are. Tell me, what is your name?”

“Uh, haven’t we been over this? It’s Emma.”

“I mean your _true_ name,” said the Mayor, “The name you were given at the dawn of time.”

The blonde frowned in utter confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? My name’s always been Emma!”

“Has it, now?”

 _“Yes!_ Yes, it has!”

Regina’s eyes narrowed. “I want to believe you, but unfortunately, I lack your lie-detecting abilities. I can, however, urge you to tell me whatever I wish to know.”

Emma’s frown deepened. “Try me.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Regina teased.

The Mayor set down her glass and locked eyes with Emma. For reasons Emma couldn’t even begin to understand, the brunette’s eyes went from a deep brown to a light purple, glowing brightly and beautifully as they stared deep into her soul.

“What is your true name? I will not ask you again.”

The blonde’s breath hitched in her throat and tears welled up in her eyes. She didn’t want to answer. She tried to fight it. She did everything she possibly could, but the urge to answer this insane woman’s question was overwhelmingly-powerful, and she simply couldn’t take her eyes off of Regina’s.

“Emma Swan,” she rasped.

Regina frowned. “No, that can’t be it. Unless you truly don’t know your original name. That must mean you were brought up by humans. No wonder you don’t believe me. And here I thought I could convince you of the truth.”

She set her hands onto the table and leaned forward.

“Let’s try something else, shall we? Who are your parents, Emma Swan?”

“No idea,” Emma said breathily, “I’m an orphan.”

“Not even an adoptive family?”

“No. Never. I grew up in the system. Nobody wanted me.”

The Mayor faltered. Her eyes flickered from purple to brown, and then back again, as she was unsettled by the harsh reality of the blonde’s words.

“Apologies. That must have been difficult for you.”

Tears slipped down the blonde’s pale cheeks. “You have no idea.”

“Were you ever abused, Emma?”

Emma hesitated. “All my life,” she whispered.

Regina’s expression went from sympathetic to outright hateful. “I swear to you, Emma, I will track down each and every last one of your tormentors, and I will show them the true definition of _suffering.”_

Emma was in awe of this woman. “You would do that? For me?”

“Punishing the wicked is what I do,” said Regina.

“What are you, God?”

 _“Goddess,”_ Regina corrected, “of—”

“Let me guess, _Death?_ Give me a fucking break!” Emma shouted, standing up suddenly and making her way to the door.

“No!”

Regina threw her hand forward and her fingertips glowed purple, as did Emma’s entire body, stopping the blonde dead in her tracks. Emma could move nothing but her eyes, and they were wide with fear and confusion. Fortunately, she could still speak.

“What the hell?! _Regina!_ What is this?! What are you doing to me?!”

“Relax, Emma. Don’t fight it. Don’t fight _me.”_

“Or what? You’ll kill me?”

“Of course not! You wouldn’t die, anyway.”

“What?!”

“Didn’t Henry tell you? You’re immortal,” Regina said casually.

“Did you seriously put your kid up to this bullshit?! What the hell is wrong with you people?! And here I thought Henry just had a big imagination! But now I can see that you’re all just insane, feeding him ridiculous lies about how you’re Gods or some shit—”

“Emma! Enough!”

Suddenly, Regina was standing in front of the blonde, but there was something different about her. Something _drastically_ different. Her hair was now long, all pulled back in a tight braid. She was wearing some sort of medieval-age dress, black as night and shimmering like stars. A colossal set of wings spread out from her back, stretched wide in a display of dominance. There were large horns that protruded from her forehead and curved back along her scalp, almost blending in with her dark hair. The most striking thing about her was her eyes. They were black where they should have been white, and her irises were that same shade of purple.

Emma’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets as she saw this. She wanted to scream, but the sound never came.

“Do not fear me, Miss Swan.”

When the brunette spoke, it sounded like two people talking in unison. One voice was Regina’s. The other was a much deeper, more demonic voice that no human was ever meant to hear.

“I am the one called Regina. At least, that is the name I gave myself. The humans have many a title for me. The Goddess of Death. Empress of the Night. Mother Moon. Queen of Darkness. The Black Angel. Bringer of Fear. Punisher of the Damned. Mother of Nightmares. I am Death. I am Temptation. I am Fear itself. I am the one the humans call the Devil. The Fallen One. The Serpent. Satan. Lucifer. Abaddon. Astaroth. Amon. Archfiend. Adversary. Beelzebub. Demon. Dracula. Lilith. Hecate. Hades. Destroyer. Demogorgon. Nightwalker. Seducer. I have infinite monikers, but my most favored of them all is _the Horned Queen.”_

Emma was finally able to move once the woman finished her terrifying rant. The blonde fell to her knees, breaking down in uncontrollable tears at the demon’s feet, which she was horrified to realize were those of a panther.

“W-What— I— I don’t understand! What the hell is this?!”

“I already told you, I am a Goddess, and so are you.”

“NO! I refuse to believe it!”

“What you _believe_ is irrelevant,” the Queen said coldly, “The mere sight of me would have driven any mortal into the darkest depths of insanity. You are anything but mortal. You may fear me— they always do— but you are entirely of sound mind.”

Emma couldn’t bring herself to look at the woman. She squeezed her eyes shut and hung her head in defeat, shaking it almost violently as she wept.

“No, no, NO!” she cried, “Please, let me go! I just want to go home!”

“You _are_ home. It was I who tipped Henry off about your location. He was the only one who could cross the border, as he is only half-God.”

“You used your own son?! You put him in danger! How could you do something like that?!”

“I had to meet you. I had to have you here in Storybrooke, where you belong. I knew that as a Goddess, you would be beautiful. I simply had no idea you would be _this_ beautiful.”

Emma shot up and turned to run— to find some other way out, as Regina was blocking the door— but the moment she did, she found herself face-to-face with the Queen yet again. Her eyes grew even wider, though she didn’t think it possible.

“What— how did you—”

The Horned Queen’s eyes shone brightly in the dim room, and suddenly, the world around her began to change. The crackling fire from the mantel leapt forth like furious beasts, setting the entire room ablaze, and the place transformed into some sort of medieval-era dungeon, stocked full of various torture devices and tools of torment.

“What the hell is this place?!” Emma screamed.

“Hell indeed, Miss Swan. This was my prison for eons! Day in and day out, delivering divine judgment to the souls of the wicked! I am Torturer of the Dead! I am the one whose name alone makes even the bravest of men tremble! Do you think I _enjoy_ that?! I absolutely loathe it! All I desire is to rule over the entire universe, reveling in the praise that the mortals once gave me, before those insufferable Gods cast me into this abominable place! Do you have any idea what it’s like, _Emma?!”_

For reasons she could not explain, Emma fell to her knees once more, not in pain, but in the utmost pleasure. She cried out in ecstasy, driving a hand between her thighs in a desperate attempt to find solace for the sudden wave of desire that had washed over her. Tears streaked her reddened face as she writhed upon the floor.

“Please!” she screamed, “I— I need to—”

“Come? Forgive me. I had forgotten that hearing one’s true name from an immortal’s lips had such an _intense_ effect.”

Emma was gasping, both for air and in pleasure. “God, please! I can’t take it! Please, let me come!”

The Horned Queen smirked. “I am not God. I am the Goddess of the Underworld, and soon, I shall be the Supreme Goddess of the Universe.”

Emma grabbed at the Queen’s dress with a trembling hand. “Please!” she said again, “I— _ohhh, FUCK!”_

The Queen swiftly reached down and lifted Emma up by the lapels of her red jacket, staring deep into the writhing blonde’s eyes, and she gave a devilish smile.

“I can see your soul,” she husked, “and what a _beautiful_ soul it is.”

Her eyes shone brightly with a peculiar gleam when she heard the delicious moans and whimpers spilling from those perfect, pale lips. She brought a hand to cup at the blonde’s breast, and the moment she did, both Emma’s hands came down upon hers, desperate to hold it in place.

“My, my, someone’s eager, aren’t they?” she purred, “What do you wish for me to do, _Em-ma?”_

Emma’s thighs clenched and a cry of bliss escaped her gasping lips. It was then that the Horned Queen knew what this blonde beauty desired. Emma suddenly felt a draft, and when she looked down, she was shocked to find that she was stark naked. She stared into the Queen’s eyes in a mix of desire and fear.

“W-What did you—”

“Hush, little one,” murmured the Queen, “You wish to come, do you not?”

Emma’s eyes were eclipsed with arousal. “Yes! God, please!”

The Queen threw Emma down, and the blonde found herself landing on a mountain of quilts and animal pelts that hadn’t been there before. The Horned Queen’s body was enveloped in a plume of purple mist, and when it cleared, she, too, was naked. She looked human from the waist up— aside from the horns and wings— but from the waist down, she had the misshapen legs of a black jungle cat, along with a tail that whipped around aimlessly behind her. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the way Emma was gaping at her.

“Do you no longer seek my ethereal touch? Speak now, or forever hold your peace!”

Emma struggled to find her voice. “N-No, it’s not that! It’s— You’re—”

“What? Terrifying? Grotesque? _Vile?”_

“Beautiful,” Emma breathed.

The Queen was visibly taken aback by this. She didn’t want to believe it, and yet, it was the truth, for she had used her power of persuasion to draw it from the blonde’s lips. She had to know more. She crouched down, looming over Emma like a predator stalking its prey. The dark feathers of her wings twitched in excitement when she laid witness to the unmistakable need within those soft, sea-green eyes.

“You really do find me beautiful, don’t you, sweet one? I must say, I’m shocked. You should feel proud. There is little in this world that surprises me,” she murmured, “Now then, I do believe you were going to tell me what you desired?”

Her eyes flashed brightly, finally pulling the truth from Emma’s lips.

“I— I want,” Emma paused.

_“Yes?”_

“I want you go down on me,” rasped the blonde, “Please?”

The Horned Queen grinned. “Since you asked so nicely.”

She placed her hands gently upon Emma’s thighs, spreading them wide, and brought her tongue where the young Goddess needed it most.


	4. Better Than Ambrosia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *EXPLICIT sex scene ahead*

Emma awoke with a gasp, shooting up and looking around, panicked. She’d just had the most insane dream, though it seemed so real. So vivid. So— _erotic._ She was no longer in the depths of Hell. She was no longer naked. Perhaps she never was in the first place. She might have just brushed it off as a bourbon-induced wet dream had she not spotted the enormous black feather resting in the center of the coffee table. It had clearly been placed there, likely to taunt her.

She wanted nothing more than to get out of there and go back to Boston. She wanted to pretend she hadn’t seen that damned feather. She wanted to pretend she hadn’t allowed the embodiment of Death to fuck her brains out. She wanted to pretend that she hadn’t writhed and screamed and begged for more. She wanted to pretend it was all a lie— a fantasy— but deep down, she knew it was all too real.

And that was what terrified her the most.

_“You’re awake.”_

Emma shuddered involuntarily when she heard that familiar, sultry voice. She slowly turned to see Regina standing in the doorway, regarding her with the faintest hint of a smirk. The brunette was no longer the winged behemoth she’d been last night. Instead, she was back in her petite human form, clad in a black pantsuit and matching heels.

“Something wrong, Miss Swan?”

“Did— Did we…?”

“Did we _what?”_ Regina asked coyly.

“You know, _do it?”_

Regina’s smirk widened. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific than that, dear. We did _many_ things last night.”

Emma’s eyes grew impossibly-wide as the color drained from her face. “It _was_ real,” she rasped.

No longer able to meet the brunette’s intense gaze, she unknowingly reached for the black feather, and the moment her fingers brushed against it, she was entirely convinced that everything she had experienced the previous night was, in fact, _reality._

“That it was, my dear.”

“It— It can never happen again!”

“Oh? And why not?”

“Because you’re,” the blonde paused suddenly.

Regina folded her arms. “Because I’m _what?_ The Goddess of Death? You certainly didn’t seem to care about that when I had my tongue in your ass.”

Emma’s breath hitched at the memory. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to block it out, but in doing so, she only made things worse. It was all she could see.

 _She was lying face down with her ass in the air, writhing and whimpering as the Horned Queen’s long, slender tongue worked its magic. All the while, the Goddess’ lithe fingers were pumping and curling deep within her pussy, beckoning that sweet,_ sweet _orgasm out of her._

Emma tried to stand up, but the moment she did, she went weak in the knees. She would have fallen had Regina not been there to catch her. How the brunette had gotten from the door to the couch in the blink of an eye was beyond her, but Emma knew that after last night, this woman was capable of just about anything.

“I did quite the number on you, didn’t I, Miss Swan?” the brunette purred.

“Don’t taunt me,” Emma snapped.

“Who’s taunting who?” asked Regina, “You think you aren’t taunting me with this _exquisite_ body of yours?”

Emma opened her mouth to speak, but promptly shut it, unsure of how to respond. She was too distracted by the feeling of Regina’s breasts pressing up against her back and the woman’s arms hooking around her waist.

“I certainly do have quite the effect on you, don’t I? Care for another round? I suppose I can fit you into my schedule.”

“Stop that!”

“Stop what, _Em-ma?”_

Emma gasped and her thighs clenched of their own accord. She bit her lip so as to stifle a moan. Instead, a whimper escaped her when she felt the Mayor’s hand slip down into her waistband, tormenting her by rubbing her aching clit through her drenched underwear. The brunette laughed softly into her ear before nipping playfully at the lobe.

“So wet for me, aren’t you, my sweet? _Yes,”_ she husked, “Even in my human form, I still make your thighs glisten. Don’t fight it, Miss Swan. We both know you want me. There is no point in resisting.”

Emma moaned uncontrollably. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because, my dear,” murmured Regina, “your soul is crying out— begging for more. You want me. No. You _need_ me. You and I both know that last night was the most incredible sex you’ve ever had, and that you ever _will_ have. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I would even go so far as to say it was the most incredible night of your life.”

“You’re— You’re not wrong,” Emma admitted reluctantly.

Regina smirked. “Thank you for telling me what I already knew.”

Emma was about to respond, but all she could do was gasp when the brunette’s hand slid down into her red underwear. Yet another moan escaped her as Regina’s fingers pushed their way into the slick velvet, brushing against that sweet-spot deep within her. She rocked almost instinctively against the woman’s hand, causing her swollen clit to rub against the heel of Regina’s palm. She squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could.

“I— I don’t want this,” she rasped, but they both knew she didn’t mean it.

“I think you do, _Em-ma.”_

That was all it took for Emma to come undone. She cried out softly as her essence spilled onto the brunette’s hand, coating the woman’s olive skin with her arousal. Until last night, she had never known herself to be a squirter. But now? Either Regina had her under some sort of spell or the woman really was that good when it came to sex. Emma slumped back against Regina, struggling to catch her breath as she came down from her orgasmic high. This proved especially difficult when the brunette was moaning in her ear while licking her warm essence off of those talented fingers.

Regina hummed in appreciation. “Better than Ambrosia,” she breathed, “Never have I tasted anything so sweet.”

Emma took the opportunity to pull away from Regina, swiping the feather from the table and rushing towards the door. Thankfully, it was unlocked. For reasons she couldn’t understand— though she was immensely grateful— Regina didn’t stop her. She rushed out the door, down the path, and jumped into her car. She then sped off down the street, not looking back. She had to get back to Boston, and _fast._

Within minutes, she was almost to the town line. Just a little longer! She was very nearly there! She was gripping the steering wheel for dear life, trying desperately to ignore the delicious ache between her thighs, but all she could think about was Regina, and how badly she wanted to turn back.

 _‘No!’_ she thought, _‘I can’t! I_ won’t! _I won’t let her control me!’_

The brunette’s sultry laughter echoed somewhere in the back of her mind. _‘Controlling you, am I? Don’t be ridiculous, Em-ma.’_

Emma gasped, fighting the urge to cry out in wanton bliss as a rush of wet heat pooled between her thighs. She closed her eyes, only for a moment, but when she opened them again, she felt as though she’d just had the wind knocked out of her. There, standing no less than fifty feet away, was Regina.

“NO!”

She went to slam on the brakes, but then she stopped herself. She could just go around the woman. Surely Regina would move. Right? The devious smirk that graced the brunette’s lips gave Emma her answer. Instead of hitting the brakes, she slammed her foot down on the gas pedal, swerving around the Goddess. She was so close to freedom! On glance at the brunette, and she was even closer to orgasm.

She turned back around towards the road, but when she did, she truly ended up getting the wind knocked out of her when her car suddenly stopped, causing her head to hit the steering wheel. She groaned in pain, pressing down hard on the gas. She could hear the tires squalling against the pavement, but for reasons she couldn’t even begin to understand, the car wasn’t moving. She slowly raised her head to look in the rearview mirror, and when she did, she felt her heart stop.

Regina was holding onto the bumper, smirking devilishly at her. She could hear the woman’s voice clearly through the windows.

“Come now, Miss Swan. Why don’t you stay a while?”

Emma was in tears. “Let me go!” she screamed, “I don’t want to be here!”

“Stop lying to yourself. Are you honestly telling me you’d rather be out there, living a meaningless life and working a meaningless job, than staying with me? With Henry? Our boy?”

“He’s not ‘our’ anything! There is no _us!_ You’re insane! I swear, I’m gonna tell everyone about this!”

“And who would believe you? Hm?”

“I thought you wanted people to believe in you?!”

“That would be ideal, yes, but I’d much rather take baby steps. I have found that I wouldn’t mind having you as my sole believer. Because you are a Goddess, your belief in me gives me more power than it would if you were mortal.”

“I am NOT a Goddess!”

“Oh, but you are, my precious,” said Regina, “and now, you are _mine.”_

The last thing Emma saw before passing out was the flicker of purple in the Goddess’ eyes.

\---

_After the Horned Queen’s tongue had slipped out of her ass, Emma could do nothing but moan softly as the brunette’s thumb pressed firmly against her aching clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles into it._

_“Such a gorgeous little pearl,”_ rasped the Queen, _“That feels good, doesn’t it, my sweet?”_

 _“Yes,”_ Emma breathed, _“Please, fuck me.”_

_“How would you like it, hm? Hard? Soft? Fast? Would you like me to fuck you with my big, hard cock?”_

_Emma’s eyes widened. “W-What?”_

_She gasped when she felt the bulbous head of a cock pressing against her labia._

_“Say the word, Miss Swan. Tell me how badly you want this.”_

_Emma whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut as the Queen’s cock rubbed teasingly along her slick labia, lightly brushing against her swollen clit._

_“Don’t you want my cock? Don’t you want to be fucked?”_

_Emma spoke before she had the chance to realize what she was even saying. “Please, yes! I need you to fuck me!”_

_The Queen grinned. “As I suspected.”_

_She drove her cock roughly into the blonde, reveling in the scream of pleasure she earned in response, and grabbed Emma’s hips firmly as she began to thrust. Her movements were rough, but she hit that sweet-spot inside the blonde again and again as she pounded into the woman from behind. She groaned in pleasure when she felt the blonde’s pussy clenching around her like a vice, pulling her cock even deeper into that warm, wet cunt._

_“You’re so tight,”_ _she groaned,_ _“Yes, that’s it. Such a good girl, milking my cock. You like my cock, don’t you? Tell me the truth,_ Em-ma.”

 _“YES!”_ Emma screamed, _“I— I love it! Please, don’t stop!”_

_“I shan’t stop,”_ _rasped the Queen,_ _“not until you are completely satisfied.”_

\---

Emma’s eyes snapped open suddenly, and she was puzzled to find herself back in her own bed, in her own apartment, in pitch darkness. Thank God, it was all just a dream. A horrific dream, but a dream nonetheless. She sat up slowly and clutched her aching head, feeling as though she’d taken an axe to the skull. She let out a quiet groan of pain.

_“Glad to see you’re finally awake.”_


	5. The Angel of Death

Emma felt her blood run cold. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she was horrified to see the tall, winged figure lurking in the shadowy corner of her room, just shy of the moonlight. The Queen’s purple eyes gleamed within the blackness, and as she saw this, Emma started to scream. No sound ever came, however, for the Horned Queen was pouncing on her in a heartbeat, slapping a hand over her mouth to silence her. The terror and confusion in her eyes was evident.

“Don’t you _dare_ scream,” the Queen hissed.

She slowly pulled away her clawed hand, watching Emma with an unreadable expression. The blonde was breathing heavy, ragged breaths, and trembling in fear.

“How— How did you find me?”

The Queen laughed darkly. _“Find you?_ Foolish girl. I brought you here myself.”

 _“W-What?_ But, how?! I thought you couldn’t leave town?”

“That was before I had my powers. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Then why would you try to keep me from leaving?”

“Oh, I wasn’t. I was simply ensuring that you didn’t leave without _me.”_

Tears slid down Emma’s cheeks. “I thought I was free. I thought I would never have to see you again!”

“Come now,” said the Queen, “We both know you could never live without me, now that you’ve had a taste of divinity, my dear, sweet _Em-ma.”_

Emma started to cry out, but the Queen cut her off with a rough, hungry kiss. She slashed, punched, and kicked at the Dark Goddess, but her resistance was futile. She was no match for the Angel of Death, certainly not when the woman was flipping her onto her stomach and pressing an enchanted cock against her thigh.

“We both know you liked having my tongue in your ass,” the Queen husked, “Let’s see how much you like taking my cock, instead.”

“No! No, please! Don’t!”

“Fine,” the Queen huffed, “I won’t claim this perfect ass of yours— not even when you beg me. And you will. Trust me. You will beg me to shove my throbbing cock up your tight little ass, and when you do, I shall deny you at every turn.”

Emma sobbed openly into her pillow, her shoulders heaving as she wept. She did everything she could to ignore the immense feeling of dread that had come over her. She felt physically ill. She felt nauseous, and yet the only thing in her stomach was a sickly sensation swirling inside her. She squeezed her eyes shut, resting her head onto her folded arms and doing her best not to focus too much on the feeling of the Horned Queen’s cock pressing into the back of her thigh.

“Oh, you poor dear,” murmured the Queen, “Tell me, what is it you want most in life?”

Emma hesitated. “I— I want a family.”

“And you can have one, with Henry and I. We can raise our child, _together.”_

“I told you, he’s not ‘our’ anything! When will you get that through your thick skull?!”

The Queen narrowed her eyes and grabbed Emma roughly by the hair, forcing her head back and causing the blonde to cry out in pain.

“You brought that beautiful boy into this world,” said the Queen, “and I was the one who raised him. That precious little Demigod. Perfect, just like his mother, yet at the same time, lonely. Just. Like. Me. I have been looking for you ever since I adopted Henry. I knew the moment I laid eyes on him that he was half-God. I did my research. I found your name, your many addresses, and so much more. There are few things I _don’t_ know about you. I simply needed Henry to convince you to come to Storybrooke so that I could obtain a believer and restore my great power. You and Henry are all I could ever want. You are all that I need.”

“Why can’t you just let me be?”

“Because I need you, Miss Swan,” said the Queen, “and you need me.”

“I don’t need anyone! And I definitely don’t need you!”

“Who else is going to be there for you? Hm? Those criminals you get paid to catch?”

“Sh-Shut up!” Emma snapped, “You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about!”

“Oh, but I do, and I think we both know it, don’t we?”

“You’re wrong! What? You think that just because you’re some big bad demon that you can just do whatever you want to me?!”

“I can when you let me.”

“I haven’t—”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence. Not only have you let me have my way with you, you have _actively_ encouraged it! And for the record, Miss Swan, I am _not_ a demon.”

“You are to me,” Emma seethed, “You fucked me in _Hell!”_

“Only because you begged me to. How long are you going to deny it? Hm? How long are you going to pretend like you don’t want me as badly as I want you? Do you realize how difficult it is, not being able to utter your name without making you scream like a Banshee? Do you realize how much it hurts, hearing you reject not only _my_ identity, but also your own? You are every bit a deity as I am! The power within you is immense. It very nearly rivals my own! It has lied dormant for twenty-eight years, and only now has it been awoken! I will take you under my wing, Miss Swan, and I will help you reach your full potential. I will forge you into the Goddess you were meant to be!”

“I don’t _want_ to be a Goddess! I want to be normal!”

“No one is ‘normal,’” the Queen argued.

“Maybe not, but all I want is for you to leave me alone! I want no part of this! Any of it! Just get the hell out of my life!”

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”

Emma quickly turned to lie on her back, glaring up at the Queen. _“Excuse me?!”_

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you. Gods don’t just ‘have sex.’ We mate. _For life,”_ said the Queen, “and last night, you became my mate. When mated, Gods form a spiritual bond. That is why I have such a potent effect on you, and you upon me.”

“Why would you keep something like that from me?!”

“Because I knew you would have rejected me if I hadn’t.”

“So, what, you just thought it would be acceptable to _force_ me into a life-long relationship?! I think the fuck not! How do we call this off?”

“We can’t. I told you, it is for life.”

“And how long do Gods live?”

“Forever.”

Emma clutched tightly at her hair, shaking her head almost violently as she brought her knees up to her chest. The Queen was crouched down on the end of her bed like a cat, watching her with intense purple eyes.

“This can’t be happening,” she uttered, “This can’t be _fucking_ happening! Henry was right about you! You _are_ evil!”

The Queen reached out and gently touched the blonde’s arm. “Miss Swan, please—”

Emma swatted her hand away furiously. “Don’t you _dare_ touch me! Get the hell away from me, you bitch! I don’t ever want to see or hear from you or the kid again! Got that? You go back to your backwards little town, and you fucking stay there! Don’t call or text me! Don’t email me! And don’t you EVER set foot here again! This is MY apartment! You have no right to my home, my life, or my fucking body! You don’t just get to do whatever you want to me! I’m a human being! I have thoughts, feelings— free will, damn it! I don’t care who the hell you are! You can’t just take that away from me! Do you hear me?!”

The Queen was silent for a moment. “I hear you,” she said quietly.

If Emma didn’t know any better, she might have believed the Queen was actually remorseful, but she wouldn’t allow herself to be fooled. Not again. Not ever. Not by this monster. She closed her eyes and lowered her head, not wishing to meet the woman’s gaze any longer. After what seemed like an eternity of dead silence, she reluctantly looked up, but found that the Goddess was no longer there. The only evidence that the Queen had ever been there was the long, black feather resting at the foot of the bed.

Emma grit her teeth in rage and snatched the feather, tossing it carelessly beneath the bed, where it would soon be forgotten.


	6. Two Months

It had been two full months since her brush with Death, yet Emma still couldn’t get her mind off of that terrifyingly-beautiful phantom who haunted her thoughts and dreams. She saw the Goddess’ face each time she closed her eyes, and when she dreamed at night, it was always the same vision. Always the memory of that crude siren violating her in every sense of the word. Although she hated to admit it, she had allowed it to happen— hell, she’d _begged_ for it— and that brought her great shame.

Emma tried to refrain from sleeping altogether, but after four nights without sleep, not even coffee would help her. Sleep was terrifying, as the outcome was always the same, but she found that it was waking up that frightened her the most. No matter where she went, she always felt someone watching her— and not just _anyone,_ of course. She knew exactly who was following her. She was never this way before she met that damned Goddess.

She used to be at least somewhat outgoing. It was part of her job: go out, catch criminals. It was a good time, and it paid well. Now, however, all Emma wanted to do was hide away in her apartment. She knew that wasn’t the best plan of action, considering the Queen knew exactly where she lived, but she couldn’t afford to move somewhere else, and she was certain that no matter where she went, the Queen would find her. She was terrified of the power the Queen had over her, simply by saying her name.

She became paranoid. Bitter. Distant. Well, more distant than usual. She didn’t exactly have friends, but now she felt like she couldn’t go anywhere. She’d even quit her job. The terror of going out was overwhelming. She always kept the door and all the windows locked and the curtains drawn these days.

She kept her gun with her at all times. She’d never had to use it, but she knew how. She just wasn’t sure how effective it would be against an immortal. She had dark circles under her eyes. She hadn’t eaten in days. She’d run out of food. All she had was the occasional sip of water, though it tasted like ash. Everything had started tasting like ash lately. She didn’t want food. She didn’t need it. All she needed was Regina—

 _‘No!’_ she thought.

She was never one to trust therapists. She’d always thought it was a scam. You were just paying someone to give a damn about your issues. How sad. She needed someone to listen, however. Someone to help fill the emptiness inside her. But maybe a therapist wasn’t what she needed. Maybe what she really needed was that beautiful Goddess—

_‘NO! Get out of my head!’_

She finally met her breaking point when she found a newspaper resting outside her door one morning, when she was feeling brave enough to sneak a glance into the real world. She snatched it up and brought it inside, swiftly bolting the door, but when she saw what was on the front page, she simply couldn’t take it anymore.

There had been a string of murders all throughout Boston these past two months. All the victims— all fifteen of them— had been mutilated in a multitude of ways, yet they were similar enough that the police suspected it was carried out by the same killer. As if that wasn’t terrifying enough, Emma recognized every single one of these people. Not just their pictures, but their names. These were the people who had abused her as a child. Every single one of them, in one way or another, had made her life miserable.

That was when she knew.

This was the Goddess’ doing. Emma thought back to the night they met, before she had seen that monster’s true face.

 _‘I swear to you, Emma, I will track down each and every last one of your tormentors, and I will show them the true definition of_ suffering.’

The Goddess of Death— as wicked as she was— had stayed true to her word. She had sought out those monsters and mutilated them all beyond recognition. The attacks were not unlike those of a wild animal. A bear, maybe? But there were no bears in Boston. Certainly not the kind that went from house to house slaughtering people. There was no telling what sort of gruesome punishment they were enduring in Hell.

It didn’t take long for the police to notice that every single one of the victims had been the foster-parents of Emma Swan, just as it didn’t take them long to find her address and come knocking. They asked her to come to the station for questions. She wanted to resist, not because she was guilty— she knew she had nothing to do with this— but because she was afraid the Queen would get to her. Regardless, she cooperated. She insisted she had nothing to do with the murders, and that she hadn’t been in contact with the victims since she was a child. This dragged on for days, but Emma would not confess to a crime she didn’t commit.

After the third day of interrogation, Emma couldn’t take it anymore. She needed a way out of this nightmare. Her life had been on a downward spiral ever since she met the Goddess of Death. Perhaps what she needed was a little divine intervention. She was extremely reluctant about this, but what choice did she have? She needed to figure things out, and what better way to do that than by calling upon the very being whose face plagued her every thought?

It was late when she arrived back home from the station. She burst into her room and got down on her hands and knees, reaching into the darkness beneath her bed and feeling around for the black feather she’d tried her very best to forget about. Alas, like all things Goddess-related, her attempts to ignore it had been entirely in vain. The second her fingers came in contact with the feather, a frighteningly-familiar voice came from somewhere in the dark room.

_“On our hands and knees, are we? I hadn’t realized you were this desperate.”_

Emma slowly turned to face the Queen, whose eyes were glowing as brightly as ever in the shadows. She clutched the black feather to her chest and struggled to find words, as she was far too busy trying to catch her breath. Tears slipped down her pale cheeks as she stared up at the winged Goddess.

“They think I did it,” she whispered.

“Did _what?”_

“What the hell do you think?!” Emma snapped, “The cops think I murdered those people! They say I have enough motive!”

“And what have you told them?”

“That I’m innocent! Why the hell would you do this to me?!”

The Queen crouched down so that she and Emma were eye-to-eye. “I did it _for_ you, my sweet.”

“I never asked you to do any of this! This is— this is _sick!”_

“Perhaps,” said the Queen, “but don’t you feel some sense of satisfaction, knowing that they can never hurt anyone ever again?”

“They could have just gone to prison!”

“And did they? Did they ever face prison for the things they did to you?”

Emma hesitated. “N-No,” she said quietly.

“Believe me, no human justice system can ever compare to the one in Hell. I can show it to you, my darling. We both know you’ve always wanted to see them suffer.”

“I— I don’t want to go back there,” said Emma, “Never again!”

“Very well,” said the Queen, “I won’t force you. Just know that the offer is still on the table.”

She held out her hand expectantly. Emma just stared at it in confusion and uncertainty, not sure whether to take it.

“Come home with me, Miss Swan, where you belong,” the brunette murmured.

“The cops told me not to leave town.”

“You are a Goddess, and they are but mortals. You don’t take orders from them. It is they who should bow down to you.”

Emma shook her head slowly. “I don’t want that.”

“Pity.”

“But, I,” Emma paused, trying and failing to fight back the tears.

_“Yes?”_

“I can’t take this anymore. I— I need you. I’ve tried so hard not to think about you, but I can’t get you out of my head! I am absolutely terrified of you! But at the same time, you’re all I want! It’s scaring me! I don’t know how to function! It’s like I— like I can’t! Not without you! Please! Tell me what I have to do to get out of this nightmare!”

The Queen smiled faintly. “All you have to do is take my hand.”

“What happens when I do?”

“This will all go away.”

“Y-You promise?”

“I promise.”

Emma tentatively placed her hand in the Queen’s, and the second they touched, she finally felt the emptiness within her disappear. It was as if it had never been there to begin with. She fell into the Queen’s arms, allowing the brunette to hoist her up bridal-style without protest. She did, however, tense up when the dark Goddess carried her towards the window.

“Wait, you’re not gonna fly, are you?”

The Queen chuckled. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I’d rather not, thanks.”

“As you wish.”

“What about all my stuff? And my car?”

“It’s already taken care of.”

“Huh? How?”

The Queen’s eyes flashed brightly, and all the things in the apartment disappeared, along with any traces of Emma having ever lived there. Her smile widened into something mirthful, yet at the same time, sinister.

“With magic, of course.”

Before long, the Goddess of Death was driving a yellow Volkswagen back to Maine with all of Emma’s belongings stuffed in the backseat and the trunk. And of course, Emma was slumped against the window, half-asleep. The Queen smirked. Even in her human form, it was devilish. She snuck a quick glance at the rearview mirror, and her eyes flickered from brown to purple, and then back again.

 _‘Soon, Little Swan, we will_ all _get what we want.’_


	7. Jealous

Storybrooke was different the second time around. Emma couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something about the town that just didn’t sit right with her. Perhaps it was the fact that it was inhabited by Gods. Surely that was the reason. Still, there was something else that truly unnerved her. She figured the best way to find out what was really going on was by exploring the quiet little town, and maybe the woods, too.

The moment Regina brought her back to the mansion, Emma bailed. She took off down the sidewalk, moving briskly, but the Goddess did not attempt to stop her. She didn’t think she was being followed this time, either, for which she was grateful. She wasn’t about to let her guard down, however, as she still wasn’t entirely sure what the Horned Queen was capable of.

She made her way past a small diner and her stomach roared with hunger, as she hadn’t eaten in what felt like years. She didn’t feel like eating, though. For one reason or another, she had the overwhelming urge to seek the Queen’s permission before eating. Otherwise, she would let herself starve. She didn’t understand why she was feeling this way. What possible reason did she have to let the Queen dictate her actions?

“Haven’t seen you around here before,” came a voice.

Emma’s head shot up in surprise, but she quickly relaxed. It was just a skimpy-looking brunette with a red streak in her hair. She was putting out a sign on the sidewalk in front of the diner.

“Just moved here.”

“Oh yeah? Where from?”

“Boston.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Boston,” said the brunette, “but Granny barely lets me have any time off. I suppose it’s for the best. I don’t make enough to afford the trip, anyway. My name’s Ruby, by the way.”

“Emma. Emma Swan.”

“Nice to have someone new in town. It can be pretty mundane around here.”

“I’d say _spooky_ is more like it.”

Ruby laughed. “Spooky, huh? You don’t wanna go to the graveyard, then. I’ve always heard it’s haunted. A lot of strange and mysterious things tend to go down there.”

“Seems like my kind of place.”

“Suit yourself,” said Ruby, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

“Where can I find it?”

“North of town, behind the old cathedral.”

“Thanks, Ruby. It was nice meeting you.”

Ruby smiled brightly. “You, too, Emma.”

Emma continued on down the sidewalk, eventually making her way up north towards the cathedral. She eyed all the tombstones curiously, admiring their unique shapes and sizes, as well as the names engraved into them. She was never one to believe in ghosts, but she always did like hearing the stories. Now, however, she wasn’t sure what to believe. She already had more than enough proof that deities existed. She wouldn’t exactly be surprised if ghosts did, too.

After wandering aimlessly between the tombstones, she came upon an old mausoleum in the back of the cemetery with a strange crest above the door. It looked like a pair of antlers, likely those of a deer. She wasn’t sure why, but there was just something about the little building that captivated her. The temptation to go inside was overwhelming. She just couldn’t resist. She went to open the door, but stopped dead in her tracks when she heard someone clear their throat.

“Care to explain yourself, Miss?”

Emma turned around slowly and found herself face-to-face with a bearded man. He had an Irish accent and a gold star on his worn leather jacket. His arms were folded, though Emma wasn’t sure if that was a defensive posture or him simply trying to keep warm.

“I— I was just checking out the place.”

“You do realize this is the Mills family tomb, right? No one’s allowed inside but them.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea. I don’t know what came over me.”

“No worries. Just don’t let me catch you here again,” said the man, “I’m Graham, by the way. Sheriff Graham Humbert. I never got the chance to introduce myself the last time.”

“The last— oh. Right. I’m Emma Swan.”

Graham smiled. “Yes, Henry has told me an awful lot about you.”

“…He has?”

“Oh yes. He adores you.”

Emma was taken aback by this. “He does?”

Graham chuckled. “He’s convinced you’re some sort of superhero.”

Emma laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, he mentioned something like that, I think.”

“He said you could tell when people are lying.”

“Well, that part is true, actually.”

“Oh? How do you do it? Body language? Eye contact? Or lack thereof?”

“Well, that’s all very telling, too,” said Emma, “but I just sort of _know._ It’s not something I can really explain.”

“Interesting.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

Graham held his hands up defensively. “I never said that.”

Emma shook her head in mild amusement. “You didn’t have to.”

“Sorry. It’s just kind of extraordinary.”

“That’s a painful understatement.”

The Sheriff laughed. “Well, I could always use that ‘power’ of yours on cases.”

“You looking for a Deputy?”

“I am, in fact. Are you interested?”

“I’m pretty good at kicking ass, if that’s what you mean.”

“Not much ass-kicking around here, I’m afraid. Aside from the fights down at the Rabbit Hole every other night, that is.”

“Bummer.”

“I’ll recommend you to Madame Mayor. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to have you as the town Deputy.”

Emma tensed. “What makes you say that?”

The Sheriff seemed to notice her sudden discomfort, but didn’t question it. “Because I’ve been the only officer in town for as long as I can remember.”

Emma was stunned. “For real? How do you manage it all?”

Graham shot her a half-smirk. “Copious amounts of coffee,” he said, “Oh, and the pay is good.”

“Maybe I will take you up on that offer, after all.”

“Please do. I could really use the help,” said the Sheriff.

“I thought you said there wasn’t much to do around here?”

“I said there wasn’t much ass-kicking. There is, however, quite a bit of paperwork.”

“Seriously?”

“The Mayor has to pay us for _something.”_

“That’s— _wow.”_

“Just think about it, Emma,” said Graham, “but don’t think too long!”

“I promise I won’t. Say, do you think you could give me a ride back to the mansion? It’s starting to rain, and I _really_ don’t feel like walking.”

“Sure thing. Want to blare the sirens?”

Emma grinned almost deviously. “You’re damn right I do.”

\---

Emma waved to Graham as he pulled away from the curb and down the street. She smiled faintly as she made her way up to the mansion. It vanished the moment she stepped inside, however, as the Queen grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the door roughly.

“What the hell were you doing with him?!” the Queen hissed.

Emma struggled to speak. Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion. _“W-What?!”_

The brunette’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Answer me! What did he say to you?!”

“He just asked me if I wanted a job! What’s the big deal?!”

“Is that it?”

“Yes! I swear!”

The Queen glared at Emma as she stared deep into the blonde’s eyes, searching her very soul. There were no traces of deception to be found. After what felt like an eternity, the Queen released Emma, who slumped against the wall and struggled to catch her breath.

“What the hell, Regina?! What’s with the interrogation?!”

“I don’t want you talking to him.”

“What? Why? Wait a minute. Are you— are you _jealous?”_

The Queen frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous, Miss Swan.”

“You _are!_ The big bad Goddess of Death is jealous! I wish I could tweet about this.”

“Don’t you dare! And I am _not_ ‘jealous.’ I am merely looking out for you.”

“Why? What’s so dangerous about that guy? What kind of God is he? The God of Thunder? Or is it Manliness? I gotta say, he’s a real hunk—”

Emma was cut off by the spiteful glare she received from the Queen.

“That’s just it, Miss Swan. He isn’t a God.”

“What is he, then?”

The Queen hesitated. “He’s my Huntsman.”

“What?”

“My Huntsman. He is a demon. I forged him in the darkest depths of Hell. His sole purpose in life is to find and capture any souls that happen to escape the Underworld. Well, it was, anyway. Now he is a quite a bit like you, Miss Swan. He tracks down criminals. The only difference is that he gets paid by the hour.”

“And why don’t you want me around him? He’s not going to hurt me, is he?”

“No. He doesn’t know he’s a demon.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m afraid you may end up hurting each other.”

“What?!”

“As an immortal, you are made of magic. In your case, it is light magic. Graham is a demon, made entirely of dark magic. If either of you are exposed to one another for too long, the results could be catastrophic.”

“So you’re saying we might explode?”

“Something like that.”

“But we won’t die, right?”

“No,” said the Queen, “Well, Graham might, but in your case, it will simply take a toll on your astral body.”

“My what now?”

“Astral body. Your non-physical form.”

“So what happens to my ‘astral body’ if I get too close to him?”

“It will weaken you drastically. It may very well paralyze you.”

“Damn. I was really hoping you’d let me be Deputy.”

The Queen’s eyes lit up in wonder. “You want to be the Deputy?”

“Well, yeah. That’s what Graham was talking to me about.”

“So he really wasn’t trying to seduce you?”

 _“What?_ Oh shit! You ARE jealous! I totally called it!”

“No! I’m not jealous! I merely meant that Graham’s ability is to persuade people to do his bidding, simply by being in his presence.”

“Didn’t you block out his powers?”

“Not all of them. The curse I cast was created specifically to affect Gods. Graham just happened to get caught in the crossfire. He is different from us. I tried creating him in the image of a God, as I did with all demons, but I’m afraid that not even I am that powerful. Creating life is much harder than you would think, especially without a soul.”

“Wait, Graham doesn’t have a soul?”

“No. None of the demons do.  That is why he is susceptible to death.  Once he's gone, he's _gone.”_

“So you created demons?”

“That I did.”

“Why?”

The Queen tightened her fists. “The other Gods and Goddesses had humanity bowing to their every whim. I had nothing but the damned souls I was forced to spend eternity punishing. I wanted worshippers of my own. I did have human followers at one point, but the others didn’t like that, so they had those humans killed— and they made me punish those people for their devotion. It was more of a punishment for me than it was for them. It was a cruel joke with no punchline.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said sincerely, “That must have been hard.”

“You have no idea.”

“Can I ask how exactly you ‘forge’ a demon?”

“You won’t like the answer.”

“Try me.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” said the Queen. She hesitated for a moment. “In the Underworld, the dead can still feel pain. The dark magic there gives them flesh, which allows for physical torture. When I was in charge, each type of sinner would receive a specific punishment. Child abusers, for instance, got ripped to pieces. It was a reflection of the damage they brought to the souls of the children they harmed. Murderers got the same treatment. I took the pieces of their bodies and I stitched them together with enchanted thread. The Huntsman was the first demon I ever forged.”

“Are there other demons here?”

“But of course,” said the Queen, “There is the Hatter. Here, he is called Jefferson. He was my second demon, though he ended up going mad when I gave him the brain of a paranoid schizophrenic.”

“How many did you make?”

The Queen smirked. “There are exactly six-hundred and sixty-six.”

Emma looked at her incredulously. “Seriously? You don’t think that’s a little cliché?”

“Not when I’m the one who did it first.”

“What are some other clichés you started?”

“How do you picture the Devil?”

“A big, scary goat man?”

“The humans once knew my true form, but their interpretations of me changed throughout the centuries. I am, for the lack of a better term, a big, scary cat lady.”

Emma snorted. “That doesn’t sound so scary.”

“You’re right. It’s one of my less-favorable monikers.”

“Why do you call yourself the Horned Queen?”

“Is it not obvious?”

“Yes, but I mean, why not pick a different name? You said they were infinite.”

“I told you, dearest, _the Horned Queen_ is my favorite of them all.”

“I think ‘Black Angel’ is pretty badass. Most of them are, actually.”

The Queen was surprised. “You mean you remember my other names?”

Emma gave a halfhearted smile. “Of course. It’s like they were seared into my brain. Trust me, I’ve tried everything I can to forget.”

The Queen’s eye twitched when she heard this. “You don’t _really_ wish to forget about me, do you, Miss Swan?”

“I can’t get you out of my head, no matter what I do. You’re always there. Lurking. Just like you do in the shadows.”

“You have virtually the same effect on me, dearest.”

Emma stared down at the Queen’s hand with uncertainty as it took hold of hers. She swallowed apprehensively before meeting the Goddess’ ethereal gaze. There was a peculiar gleam in the brunette’s eyes that Emma couldn’t even begin to make sense of.

“Regina?”

“Hm?”

Emma hesitated. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything, my sweet.”

“Promise me you won’t keep murdering people.”

“But, those who hurt you deserve to be killed!”

“Regina,” Emma said more firmly, “No more killing humans. Please.”

The Queen sighed. “Very well,” she said, “but only because you said ‘please.’”


	8. Sorry

Emma shifted awkwardly in her seat as she felt Regina’s foot running up and down her leg beneath the table. She let out a quiet moan, but panicked when she saw the puzzled look on Henry’s face, and quickly took a sip of the expensive wine the Goddess had given her.

“What’s wrong?” asked Henry.

A deep blush crept onto Emma’s face. “Nothing. This is just really good wine,” she said quickly.

Henry seemed to accept this and instead turned to his adoptive mother. “Mom, can I have some wine?”

The Queen smirked. “Yes, dear. In eleven years.”

The boy’s shoulders slumped and his face fell. “That’s not fair,” he pouted.

“That’s the law.”

“Since when do you care about the law? You’re the Goddess of Death! You can do whatever you want!”

Emma sat in stunned silence as she watched the two interact.

“That may be, darling,” said the Queen, “but it is my duty, as your mother, to ensure you do the right thing.”

Emma couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It seemed that in the span of just two months, Henry had not only accepted the fact that his mother was Death incarnate, but now he was outright using it as an excuse to do whatever he wanted. The blonde was pulled from her thoughts when she sensed the Queen watching her. Her eyes locked with the brunette’s and she fought not to shudder when she saw the intense desire burning within them.

The Goddess gave her a knowing look. “Are you feeling alright, Miss Swan? You seem awfully tense.”

Emma struggled to find her voice. “Yeah, uh, I’m fine.”

The brunette raised a curious eyebrow at her. “Are you certain?”

Emma bit her lip when she felt the Goddess’ foot rubbing against her leg again, only this time, it felt like it the foot of a cat, rather than that of a woman. She gasped and snuck a glance beneath the table, only to find that the brunette’s foot had indeed transformed. When she looked back up at the Queen’s face, she saw the woman’s dark eyes flicker from brown to purple, and then back again, in just a fraction of a second. The Queen’s lips twitched with just a hint of a smirk. Emma stood up suddenly, earning a look of confusion from Henry and one of intrigue from the Queen. Her blush deepened as she glanced between them.

“I, uh— I’m not feeling so good, after all. Excuse me.”

She rushed upstairs, leaving behind her half-eaten spaghetti— which admittedly tasted divine, and she was certain that wasn’t a coincidence— and made her way to the guest room, putting some distance between her and the Queen’s room, as Henry’s was in the middle. She closed and locked the door, not bothering to turn on the light, and discarded her jacket on a chair before crawling into bed. She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

 _“What are you doing, Swan?”_ she asked herself quietly.

\---

She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, she was woken by the feeling of an arm draping over her midriff, holding her close to the figure behind her. She could feel the Goddess’ breasts pressing into her back. She slowly turned her head to regard the Queen from the corner of her eye. The brunette was watching her with an unreadable expression.

“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable,” the Queen said softly.

Emma hesitated. “It’s fine. I just wish you wouldn’t do it in front of the kid.”

“Understandable. I simply couldn’t help myself. You draw out the beast in me.”

Emma’s eyes slipped shut of their own accord when she felt the Goddess’ lips meet the space behind her ear. The brunette pulled her even closer.

“I never would’ve imagined I’d be spooning with the Goddess of Death.”

The Queen chuckled. “This must be quite the change for you.”

“You have no idea.”

A blanket of silence fell over them, and they just lied there for what felt like forever, listening to one another’s gentle breaths. After a while, however, the Queen softly broke that silence.

“Miss Swan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

Emma sighed. “Bit late for that, don’t you think?”

The Queen hesitated. “I know I’ve messed up. I’m far from perfect. I’m afraid I don’t know how to love very well. Millions of years spent exiled in Hell will do that to a person.”

“Did you say _love?”_

“I did.”

“You love me?”

“Yes.”

Emma moved so that she was facing the Queen. “Show me,” she whispered.

“I will,” said the Goddess, “the only way I know how.”

\---

The silencing spell cast over the room would prevent anyone from suspecting just what was going on behind that door, but Emma still couldn’t help thinking they might get caught. Her worries were overshadowed, however, by the feeling of the Queen’s throbbing shaft rubbing rapidly against her asshole, teasing her in the most unusual of ways.

“You want me to fuck this perfect ass, don’t you? Shame. I swore I wouldn’t, no matter how much you begged me.”

“Please,” Emma rasped, “Don’t torment me like this.”

“You don’t really think it’s torment, do you? No. You like this. I know you do.” The Queen smirked. “There is, however, a loophole. There always is.”

_“W-What?”_

“I told you I wasn’t going to shove my cock in your ass,” the Goddess said crudely, “I never said anything about my fingers.”

She retracted her claws and pushed her middle finger into the blonde’s tight asshole, sawing it in and out at a tauntingly-slow pace. Soon, she had Emma whimpering and moaning beneath her, and she smiled almost wickedly.

“Tell me, my sweet, have you ever allowed anyone to give you a golden shower?”

In an instant, Emma stopped moaning, and her expression changed from one of desire to disgust. She frowned a bit as she looked back at the Queen over her shoulder. The Goddess had paused as well, watching her expectantly.

“Well?”

“You mean, have I ever let someone _pee_ on me? _Eww, no!_ That’s definitely crossing the line!”

The Queen chuckled somewhat darkly. “Very well. I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.”

“What could possibly be arousing about peeing on someone?!”

“I find the degradation of others quite pleasing,” replied the Queen, “It gives me a sense of power. It is a rush. It is intoxicating, almost like a drug. It strengthens my desire for domination. All I have ever been, and all I ever will be, is the alpha. I take what I want. I do as I please. With you, however, it is different. I do not wish to force you into anything. You are special. You are my mate. You are my _equal,_ now and forever.”

After a pause, the Queen brought her hands to Emma’s hips and, without warning, slammed her cock deep into the blonde’s cunt.


	9. Evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning: A N G S T

“Regina?” Emma asked quietly, long after their intense fucking.

“Yes, dear?”

“I think it’s time we talk about my role in all of this.”

“Your role?”

“When Henry brought me here, he told me it was my ‘destiny’ to, um,” the blonde paused.

“To _what?”_

Emma hesitated. “To destroy you.”

The Queen said nothing for the longest time, and yet, her silence was deafening. The only part of her that was visible within the darkness was her glowing eyes, and they were full of sorrow and pain.

“Is that what you want, Miss Swan? To destroy me?”

“No,” Emma said quickly, “No, that’s not at all what I want.”

“Then what _do_ you want?”

“You terrify me,” Emma confessed, “but at the same time, you fascinate me. I can no longer eat, sleep, live, or even _breathe_ without you. You say domination is your drug. Well, you’re _my_ drug. I don’t give a damn about destiny, or whatever. I don’t want you. I _need_ you, Regina.”

The Queen gently stroked Emma’s cheek. The smile that graced her lips was as clear as day, even in the pitch darkness.

“I need you, too, my angel.”

Emma’s eyes slipped shut and she inched closer to the Goddess, allowing herself to seek comfort in the Queen’s embrace. She rested her head in the junction between the brunette’s neck and shoulder. After a moment, she heard the rustling of feathers and felt the deity’s wing drape over her like a blanket, providing the perfect level of warmth. Emma felt tears slip down her cheeks.

“Are you alright?” the Queen asked softly.

“I— I wanted to apologize for the things I said to you.”

Emma hesitated, thinking the Queen would say something, but there was only patient silence on the Goddess’ end. Emma let out a shaky breath, struggling to find words.

“I don’t think of you as a demon. I was just angry. I was lashing out. I was afraid of what I was becoming. I— I don’t want you to leave me alone. I don’t want you to abandon me. I just wish you had told me what I was getting myself into before you fucked me.”

She paused yet again, locking eyes with the Goddess.

“And I don’t _really_ think you’re evil. I’m so sorry, Regina.”

The Queen brought a hand to the back of her head and held her close. “You foolish girl,” rasped the brunette, “I don’t ever want to hear you apologize. Not to me.”

 _“What?_ I— I don’t understand.”

“You and Henry are right,” said the Queen, “I _am_ evil. I realize that. I have for millions of years. I do not enjoy being evil, but it is my actions and my desires that corrupt me. I enjoy seeing people suffer. I enjoy punishing others, and if necessary, I enjoy killing them. But I have slain few people in my infinite lifetime. For most of my existence, I have been alone. Of course, I have had my loyal demons to play with and damned souls to torture, and I confess, I have felt things for them before, but my feelings have never been requited. Not until I met you, Miss Swan. You desire me as I desire you. Domination may very well be a drug for me, but nothing is quite as intoxicating as simply being in your presence. You are my better half. You will not destroy me, Miss Swan. You already have. The love you have for me, and that I have for you, is changing me as we speak. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you _hear_ it?”

Emma was mesmerized. “H-Hear what?”

“My heart,” the Queen said softly, “It beats for you. I have not had a heartbeat since I was cast into Hell. I was told I would never find love, for who could ever love Death? And yet, it has come to pass. You, Miss Swan, are truly a miracle. You are _my_ miracle. Shame I cannot take the credit for your beautiful existence.”

Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing— or rather, she didn’t want to believe it. She pressed her hand against the Queen’s bare chest, feeling the brunette’s heartbeat. She expected to feel a violent war-drum, thundering away within the chaotic exterior that was the Horned Queen’s body. What she found, however, was entirely the opposite. It was calm. Gentle. Rhythmic. It soothed her. It made her body relax and her eyelids droop. It gave her a sense of peace. She was more content in that moment than she had ever been in her entire life.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” murmured the Queen.

“It’s,” Emma paused, “It’s absolutely _incredible.”_

A soft smile graced the winged woman’s lips. She started to say something, but paused when she saw her young lover’s eyelids drift shut. She instead brought an arm around the blonde’s waist and held her ever so gently.

“Sweet dreams, Miss Swan.”

\---

When Emma awoke the next morning, she found herself caged in the Horned Queen’s arms, but she made no attempt to pull away from the woman. Instead, she just lied there and nuzzled against the dark Goddess. She smiled when she felt the brunette’s arms tighten around her.

“Good morning, my sweet,” murmured Regina.

“Morning.”

The Queen was quick to return the blonde’s smile. “I trust you slept well?”

“I did,” said Emma, “I don’t think I’ve slept this good in my life.”

She knew that feeling the Goddess’ heartbeat was most likely the reason, but there was also the fact that this was her first time sleeping next to this beautiful brunette and waking up in her loving arms. They lied there a while longer before the Queen decided to get ready for the day. She rose from the bed and her wings began to shrink, disappearing into her back while her horns and claws retracted, and her cat-like legs twisted and cracked as they morphed back into those of a human, with all the fur sinking back into her smooth, toned legs. So, too, did her long, braided hair return to the short bob that typically resided in its place. When the Queen turned around, her eyes were fading from black to white, and her irises were switching back to brown. She smirked when she noticed Emma ogling her bare body.

“See something you like?”

“Very much so.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint you,” said the brunette. She waved her hand, and in mere seconds, she was fully-clothed in a black pantsuit and heels. Emma reluctantly climbed out of bed and tied her hair back in a loose ponytail, not caring to mess with it that day. She slowly got dressed, as she still wasn’t entirely awake, and when she turned around, she was pleasantly surprised with a sweet kiss from her ethereal lover. The Queen’s arms hooked around her waist, holding her close.

“Believe me, darling, I’d love to spend the day in bed, but I need to cook breakfast for Henry and go to work.”

“Can’t you take the day off?” Emma fussed.

Regina smiled. “I’m the Mayor,” she said, “I don’t get a day off.”

“But you’re a Goddess!”

“Who happens to enjoy her job as the Mayor.”

“You actually _like_ doing that?”

“Of course. How else could I control the town?”

“But there’s paperwork!”

“Nothing a little magic can’t take care of.”

“Have you always used magic to do paperwork?”

“Only since I met you, dear Swan. Before that, I made Graham do it. Actually, no. I still do.”

“Shouldn’t he be doing, I don’t know, _police_ work?”

“There is very little crime around here. I have to pay him for _something.”_

“You know, now that I think about it, he did mention that to me before. I just had no idea it was _your_ paperwork he was doing. What do you do, then, if not paperwork?”

The Queen smirked. “Why, I torture Graham, of course.”

“What?!”

“Only joking, dear. I haven’t had that kind of fun in decades.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me you used to torture him? For real?”

“But of course! He is a demon. He loves enduring punishment just as much as I love dishing it out— if not more so— and that’s saying _a lot.”_

“That’s— _wow.”_

“How eloquent of you, Miss Swan.”

“Um, Regina?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Why don’t you react when I say your name?”

“Because, ‘Regina’ isn’t my true name.”

“Oh? Then what is?”

The Queen shook her head. “I cannot say. I haven’t used it since the dawn of time. It has long-since slipped my mind. Besides, hearing it could very well drive us both mad.”

Although it was a strange response, Emma could tell Regina was telling the truth, and so she didn’t question it.

“Well, is there any way you can say mine without driving me into a frenzy?”

“Afraid not, dear. Everyone reacts differently.”

Emma hesitated, trying to tackle the right words. “I’ve thought a lot about what you said, and I guess I won’t get to be Deputy anytime soon, not if it hurts Graham. Still, I can’t stop wondering why _you_ don’t get hurt when you’re around him.”

“I told you, dear, your light magic could destroy him, and his dark magic could weaken you terribly. As for me, I myself am made of the same dark magic that created him. I may have stitched his flesh together, but I gave him life by sacrificing some of my own. He is, quite literally, a part of me. All my demons are. The Huntsman is the first demon in existence, and as such, he is special to me. He is, and always has been, my favorite. I must confess, however, that I have not been fair to him.”

“What do you mean?”

The Queen hesitated. “A little over a million years ago, I forged my fifth demon, whom I called _the Hexer._ I needed someone to guard the gates of the Underworld, and she was perfect for the job. She was the first female demon I created, and she was quite a formidable plaything.”

Emma looked at the brunette incredulously. “Plaything? You mean she was your _fuck-toy?”_

“Well, I— yes, though that is a crude way to put it. Are you jealous, Miss Swan?”

“What? No! Don’t you turn the tables on me, Regina!”

The Queen just smirked. “Anyway, while I was off torturing the souls of the damned, the Hexer took an interest in my Huntsman, and vice-versa. They began seeing one another behind my back. This angered me. No. It infuriated me, more than you can possibly imagine. It was not the fact that they were having an affair that invoked my wrath. It was their futile attempt to hide it from me, and it didn’t take me long to find out. As their creator, I was deeply insulted. They were not to keep secrets from me, nor were they to lie, which they did. I did not wish to harm my Huntsman— as I said, he has always been my most favored demon— not physically, anyway. I did, however, feel the need to punish him in some way or another. What better way to do that than by punishing his lover? I turned the Hexer into a giant wolf. From that day on, she was known as _the Hound.”_

“You turned his girlfriend into a wolf? Regina, that’s horrible!”

The Queen tightened her fists and hung her head in shame. “I’m not proud of it, Miss Swan. I told you, I’m not exactly the practitioner of morality, here. I’m the Goddess of Death. I hurt people, and I _love_ it. I also hate it with a passion.”

Bitter, angry tears streaked her cheeks.

“When the other Gods banished me, they ensured that I would always seek to degrade and torment those around me. Don’t you see? Punishing people is, in and of itself, a punishment. They cursed me. And so I gave them a taste of their own medicine. You have no idea what I’ve had to go through. You had no idea what it’s like, being feared, scorned, and hated by the entire universe! I am the one who gets blamed for the sins of others! I don’t force anyone to do the things they do! I am the scapegoat they use when they feel like doing something evil! I am the punisher of the wicked! And yet, I myself am just as vile! When I punished the Hexer, I wasn’t just hurting her. I wasn’t just hurting the Huntsman, either. As I said, all my demons contain a piece of my soul. I was, in fact, hurting myself— and it was _beautiful.”_

The color had drained from Emma’s face. She could do nothing but gape at the Queen in utter horror. The woman’s words had affected her in ways she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. She tried to find words, but none ever came. Seeing that she was in shock, Regina placed a hand upon her shoulder.

“Come along, Miss Swan,” the Goddess said calmly, swiftly regaining her composure, “Let’s go and have breakfast.”

Emma gave a tight smile. “Sure thing.”

But she no longer felt like eating.


	10. The Huntsman

Regina regretted the fact that she had to lie to her beautiful young lover. Well, it wasn’t so much ‘lying’ as it was _omitting the truth._ She did plan on getting at least _some_ work done at the office, but she also needed to head down to her vault. The truth was, she had sensed someone near the old mausoleum the previous day and sent Graham to investigate, as he still had the instinctive urge to obey her, even while cursed. Regina had suspected a hoodlum— perhaps a nosy teenager or two— but not Emma. Sweet, _precious_ Emma. She couldn’t have anyone, not even her mate, discovering her mystical vault.

She’d had twenty-eight years to perfect her potion-making skills, but without her divine power, she couldn’t make them work the way they were supposed to. Now, however, she could finally get her favorite demon to wake up.

And then the _real_ fun could begin.

She stepped into the mausoleum with a bouquet of roses. One would think she was there to pay her respects to the dead. The truth was that the caskets within the tomb were empty. They always had been. The flowers weren’t just for show, however. Oh no. She needed them for her potions.

She quietly closed the door behind her, sealing it with her magic, and with a mere wave of her hand, opened up the secret panel within the floor. It led down into a dark abyss, deep below the earth. It was the closest thing to Hell she could afford in this world. As much as she despised being banished to the depths of the Underworld, she couldn’t help but miss it. It had been her home for eons. It suited her. It was a cold and bitter irony.

As she made her way down the steps, the torches along the walls lit themselves, and she slowly transformed back into her preferred body— wings, horns, and all. She could already feel herself getting taller. The more people believed in her, the larger she would become. She had been massive once. So colossal that the planets were but marbles in the palm of her hand. How she longed to return to her former glory.

She rid herself of her clothing, preferring to work without the restrictive garments, and padded down the dim corridor. She opened yet another door, which led directly to her study. Here, she had all her mystical talismans, charms, and grimoires, along with the various ingredients for her potions. A sly grin crept its way onto her face and her eyes shone brightly in the dim chamber as she resumed her work on her latest potion.

Not long into her work, she heard a hauntingly-familiar voice emitting from within the tiny metal box resting high upon the shelf. It was protected by blood magic. No one would be getting to it but her— not that she wanted to touch the wretched thing.

 _“Let me out, Dearie,”_ the Dark One lilted, in his unnerving, childlike voice. _“You know you want to. I’m your friend, remember? Won’t you help me out of here?_ Please?”

The Queen grit her teeth and snapped her fingers, cutting off that obnoxious voice with a swift silencing spell. She carried on with the potion, adding twelve rose petals— one from each flower— to the large, black chalice. She then brought her claw to her wrist, slicing into her flesh and letting her blood drip onto the petals, giving them a new coat of red.

She moaned as she watched the trail of crimson leak from her wound. Her eyes dilated, her breathing grew ragged, and her arousal caused her cock to appear, fully erect as always. She tried to resist, but the urge to stroke it was far too powerful, even for her.

“No,” she groaned, “Not here. _Not now.”_

She stared down at her bleeding wrist with desire burning in her eyes. She bit her lip in an attempt to stifle a moan, failing miserably. Her lips were on her flesh in an instant, sucking the blood from her wrist and moaning wantonly. It had been so long since she’d tasted blood, and even longer since she’d consumed her own.

She could feel her heartbeat through her wrist as her tongue lapped up the warm blood. It was like honey, thick and sweet, yet salty all at once. Her eyes fluttered shut as she feasted upon her blood. It seemed like an eternity before her bloodlust was sated, and even then, she had to force herself to pull away. It took her a moment to catch her breath. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

 _“Divine,”_ she rasped.

She ran her thumb over the wound and it rapidly began to heal. There was no cut. No scar. It was as if it had never even been there in the first place. She sighed in relief and went back to working on her potion, doing everything in her power to ignore the intense throbbing of her cock.

Why, of all things, did she have to be cursed with such an insatiable libido? And why did those bastards have to give her a cock? Was that _really_ necessary? Of course, it was nice to be able to satisfy her mate with her sizeable endowment, but it was only present when she was aroused, which was more often than she cared to admit.

It brought out her animalistic urges, a cruel addition to her beastly appearance— the horns of a dragon, the face and upper torso of a woman, the wings of a raven, the hindquarters of a panther, the eyes of a monster, and of course, a cock that rivaled a stallion’s.

She hated and loved her appearance all at once. She despised the notion that she was cursed to look this way, and yet, she adored it. She reveled in the fear it brought to those she sought to dominate. But with Emma Swan, it was different. She didn’t want to frighten her mate. All she wanted was for Emma to accept her for who she truly was, but how could that happen when she had yet to accept herself? She shook her head and let out a heavy sigh, resting both hands upon the table.

“You really _are_ destroying me, Swan,” she uttered.

\---

Later that afternoon, having completed what she was certain would be a successful potion, the Queen transported herself to the Sheriff’s station, appearing in front of Graham’s desk, where she found the man in question with his feet propped up and his chair leaned against the wall. He was snoring loudly, and in a deep enough sleep that he had no idea his lukewarm coffee had just been spiked with a powerful elixir. The Queen then slammed her hand down on the desk, startling the Sheriff into consciousness. He looked around, panicked, but relaxed when he realized just who he was looking at. He brought a hand to his chest and let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s just you, Madame Mayor. You startled me.”

“Did you have a nice nap, Sheriff?” the Queen asked pointedly.

Graham just chuckled awkwardly as he reached for his coffee, just as the Queen expected him to. He always drank coffee when he was nervous. He sipped the coffee slowly, frowning a bit and licking his lips as he set it back down on the desk.

“Something wrong?” the brunette asked coyly.

“My coffee seems awfully bitter. It wasn’t like that befo—”

The Sheriff was suddenly gasping and clutching at his chest in agony. Sweat poured down his forehead and he fell out of his seat, writhing in pain on the floor.

“Call an ambulance!” he managed, “I— I think I’m having a heart attack!”

The Queen loomed over him, watching him with an unreadable expression.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“What?! Regina, please! It feels like I’m dying!”

“Just stay calm. It will all be over in a moment. I promise.”

“What the hell are you talking about?! Please, get me a damn—”

The Sheriff gasped, suddenly ceasing to move, and his fists tightened to the point that his knuckles turned white. He grit his teeth and slowly sat up. His head was hung in what looked like defeat.

“Sheriff? How do you feel?”

The man slowly raised his head and met the brunette’s gaze, and when he did, his eyes flashed from blue to gold and then back again. A devilish smirk crept its way onto his lips.

“You must have me mistaken for someone else,” he said.

The Queen was quick to return his sly smirk. “Oh? And who might you be, kind sir?”

“You know exactly who I am— _Your Majesty.”_

“Enlighten me.”

The man chuckled darkly as he got up, standing eye-to-eye with the Horned Queen. The fire in his eyes brought with it a stark reflection of his underworldly upbringing. His smirk widened into a wicked grin.

“I am the Huntsman.”

“And are you with me?”

The man bowed his head in respect. “Now and forever, my Queen.”

The Queen lifted his bearded chin with gentle fingers, meeting his fiery gaze with a mask of pride.

“It’s good to have you back, my dear Huntsman.”

“How long have I been away?”

“Twenty-eight years.”

“I suppose we have some catching up to do, then.”

“That, we do. Come. Let’s go to my vault.”

The Huntsman grinned. “You have a vault? Any torture devices we can play with?”

“No. My vault is where I keep my most valuable possessions,” said the Queen, “and I don’t want to torture you anymore, Huntsman.”

“What? Why not?”

“I’m trying to be better, though it has proven to be quite the struggle.”

“Why change, Your Majesty? Don’t you like torturing me?”

“You know I do, Huntsman, but I have a mate now. I want to be faithful to her.”

“Please, my Queen,” said the Huntsman, “Can’t we do it just this once? It’s been so long since I felt anything! I need the rush! And who better to dish out pain than the Torturer of the Damned?”

The Queen sighed. “Very well. One last time. But I will _not_ be sticking my cock up your ass, no matter how tempting it may be.”

“Not even down my throat, Majesty? For old times’ sake?”

The Horned Queen bit her lip, feeling her blood run south. Her cock appeared as stiff as ever, and after a stressful four hours of restraint, she could no longer resist. The thought of the Huntsman taking her impressive cock down his throat sent pleasant chills up the Queen’s spine.

“Very well,” she relented, “but just this once— and no one can ever know about this. _Especially_ not Emma.”


	11. Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: *Graphic* depictions of torture ahead

Following his beautiful torture at the hands of the Horned Queen, the Huntsman made his way out of the mausoleum and through the dark cemetery with a smirk on his face and a skip in his step. He slipped his hands into his pockets and decided to head to the Rabbit Hole for a drink. What better way to intensify the delicious ache in his throat than by drinking whiskey? It would burn all the way down, he just knew it, and he couldn’t wait.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d gotten hard in the past few hours, but it was already happening again. He grinned devilishly.

_His hands were bound at the wrists with barbed wire. There were steel spikes— each of them heated to a thousand degrees— impaled beneath his bloody fingernails. The flesh beneath them was boiling from the intense heat. His eyes had been gouged out. He was covered in deep gashes from the Queen’s claws. He’d had the flesh torn from his back with a leather whip. There were bloody stumps where his legs should have been, and best of all, his throat was being abused by the Queen’s massive cock._

“I love being me,” he said to no one in particular.

He walked halfway across town, though he didn’t mind. It always felt good to stretch his legs a bit after having them severed. Even better was the feeling of getting them sewn back on with some of the Queen’s enchanted thread. He was grateful she had been generous enough to provide him a clean pair of underwear after all the times she’d made him come.

The moment he entered the Rabbit Hole, he received a number of spiteful glares from the more unsavory patrons, but he simply smirked at them, which only angered them further. He calmly took a seat at the end of the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey. Much to his delight, it burned just as badly as he’d hoped. He then ordered a dozen more. Thirteen always was his lucky number.

“You sure you wanna drink that much, Sheriff? Always took you for a lightweight,” said the bartender.

The Huntsman smirked. “I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

Before the bartender could even think to respond, an empty beer bottle came flying at the Sheriff’s head, but he caught it without sneaking so much as a glance at it. He set the bottle down carefully and stood up without a word. The bearded man’s eyes narrowed as they locked onto those of the short, drunken man in the far corner.

“Did you throw this?” he asked coldly.

“Yer goddamn right I did!”

The Huntsman picked up the bottle, and without so much as aiming, hurled it directly into the drunken man’s face. The force was so strong that the glass shattered on impact.

“You son of a bitch! Who the hell do you think you are?!”

“I was forged in the fiery depths of the Underworld. I have neither a mother nor a father. I am no one’s son. Therefore, I cannot be— as you so rudely put it— a son of a bitch, but you, Leroy, most certainly are.”

“Bastard!”

“As for who I am, well, that is a simple question with a complicated answer. You know me as the Sheriff. Graham Humbert. In truth, I am many things. I am the Original Demon. I hunt the depraved souls who escape Her Majesty’s clutches. I enjoy pain. I _love_ pain. I crave it! I yearn to feel the most excruciating of pain! Stab me with your knives! Plug me with your bullets! Beat me! Hang me! Strangle me! Slit my throat! Cut off my fucking _head!_ I have existed for more than six million years! I cannot be killed! Not by the likes of you! I am eternal! I am the _Hunts—”_

 _“Sheriff!”_ came a voice.

The Huntsman froze.

That voice. That _beautiful_ voice. The one he had longed to hear for eons. He slowly turned around, and when he did, he found himself face to face with his lover. No longer was she the wolf who watched over the gargantuan gates of the ghoulish grove. She was the voluptuous vixen he had risked his very existence to be with. She was the Hexer. His beloved Banshee.

 _“Red?”_ he rasped.

His words went unheard, however, as the tall waitress approached him with a worried look on her face. She was concerned for his wellbeing. At least, it appeared that way. Alas, she had no idea who he truly was, or who she was, for that matter.

“Sheriff, don’t listen to anything that idiot tells you. You’re a good man. You’re not a monster. If anyone’s a demon, it’s _him.”_

 _‘Oh, Red,’_ thought the Huntsman, _‘If only you knew what you were saying.’_

“Come on. Let’s go to Granny’s.”

“I came here for a drink. I’m not exactly looking to eat a burger.”

Ruby shook her head. “You can get a drink at the diner.”

“What? Since when?”

“Since _always._ Granny only serves alcohol from five in the afternoon to six in the morning.”

“I had no idea the diner was open that long.”

Ruby smirked. “Looks like there are a lot of things you don’t know.”

The Huntsman tilted his head in confusion as he followed the brunette out of the bar. She was leading him by the hand. It felt incredible to feel her smooth skin again. Now, if only he could feel the rest of her, too.

“And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Just that most people don’t know it. Either that, or they just don’t care. The only ones who ever come in that late— or that early, I suppose— are Sidney, Daniel, and Jefferson. What a bunch of creeps. _Especially_ Jefferson. That guy’s insane.”

The Huntsman chuckled. “You have _no_ idea.”

“Everyone says he’s a worse drunk than Leroy, but the weird thing is, I’ve never once seen him drink anything other than tea.”

“He certainly does love tea,” said the Huntsman.

He paused as the waitress led him across the street and down the sidewalk. He couldn’t help but smile. Twenty-eight years spent in a haze, not knowing who he was or what his purpose in life was. But now he knew. He wasn’t just the Huntsman. Not now, at least. He had a mission. He had to get the waitress out of her cursed haze. He had to reunite with the Hexer. And if he was lucky, he would get hurt in the process.

“Can I ask why you felt the need to save me from _Leroy,_ of all people?”

“Well, I was in the bathroom when I heard Leroy shouting at you. Then I heard you saying something about having demons and being in pain. I felt bad, so I walked out to see if you were alright, and now, here we are.”

“That’s very considerate of you,” said the Huntsman, “but I can handle a hell of a lot more than Leroy. He is nothing to me— and I don’t have demons. I _am_ a demon. Pain makes me feel truly alive. It is my drug, and I have an addiction.”

“Sounds like you’ve been watching too much _Hellraiser,_ buddy.”

The Huntsman scoffed. _“Hellraiser?_ That’s _nothing!_ I don’t just want to be ripped apart. I want to be doused in gasoline— hell, I’d even chug it— and have someone light a match. I want every last cell in my body to spontaneously combust! And then, I shall rise from the ashes, like a grand Phoenix! I shall return in a blaze of glory, just as I went out!”

Ruby laughed awkwardly. “That’s pretty intense, Graham. Maybe you and Jefferson would get along, after all.”

“Oh, I very much disagree. He’s always been jealous of me.”

“Jealous? Why?”

“Because I am, and always have been, the favorite.”

Ruby was stunned. “You guys are brothers?”

The Huntsman frowned. “Something like that.”

“Oh my gosh! I had no idea!”

“Yes, well, I don’t exactly want anyone to know. I’d like to keep as far away from him as I can.”

Ruby laughed. “Yeah. You and me, both.”

The Huntsman was silent for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” the waitress beamed, “Ask away.”

A faint smile graced the Huntsman’s lips. “How would you like to come back to my place?”

“I thought we were gonna get a drink?”

“I can think of better ways to spend our time,” said the demon, “That is, if you’re up for it.”

The waitress smiled. “I’m up for just about anything.”

The demon offered his arm to the beautiful waitress, and she was quick to accept. He shot her a devilish grin.

“Anything, you say? How _exciting.”_

\---

Meanwhile, the Horned Queen was sitting alone in her vault with her face buried in her hands.

_“What have I done?”_

\---

Emma was already in bed when the Queen appeared in the guest room, startling her.

“Holy shit! Regina? What’s going on? It’s like ten-thirty!”

The brunette was back in her human form, staring at her blonde lover with an unreadable expression.

“I tortured the Huntsman,” she said abruptly.

“What? You mean _Graham?_ Why would you—”

“And he sucked me off.”


	12. Feud

The Huntsman was sitting at a booth in the diner, admiring Ruby’s phenomenal ass for what felt like the hundredth time. She was jotting down an order, and when she turned around, she locked eyes with the handsome demon. She grinned as she made her way towards him with a slight limp. The Huntsman smirked when he saw this.

“You’re limping,” he said knowingly.

Ruby’s blush deepened. “Yes, well, you were quite something,” she told him, “So, what can I get you?”

“I’d like a smoking-hot waitress with a side of fellatio.”

Ruby snorted. “As much as I’d like to, I have to work.”

“Shame. See you tonight, then?”

“Of course. Now, what would you like? From the _menu,_ this time,” Ruby said pointedly.

The Huntsman chuckled. “I’ll have scrambled eggs with bacon and toast.”

“And to drink?”

“Coffee.”

“How do you want it?”

“Black, like my soul. Well, I suppose it would be if I actually _had_ one.”

Ruby just laughed and shook her head in amusement as she wrote down the Huntsman’s order.

“You’re a lot different now, Sheriff.”

“What can I say? I’m a whole new man.”

“Well, I like the new you,” said Ruby, _“Especially_ after last night.”

The Huntsman’s smirk only widened. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll make you a whole new woman.”

“I definitely feel like one,” said the waitress, “Let me get your order in. I’ll be right back.”

Ruby then disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the Huntsman alone with his thoughts. The demon stroked his beard as if plotting something especially-sinister, though in truth, he was thinking of all the ways he could get it on with the hot waitress. He had been so sure that fucking Ruby would awaken the demon in her, but alas, his plan had failed. He noticed something red in his peripheral, and thinking it was Ruby, he turned to her with a smirk.

“Back so soon?”

But it wasn’t Ruby Lucas he was staring at. It was Emma Swan. More specifically, it was her fist, decking him square in the face.

_“You son of a bitch!”_

The Huntsman held his bloody nose and laughed darkly. His eyes flashed from blue to gold, and then back again, as they locked with the blonde’s.

“Oh my,” he said, “It seems you’ve broken my nose. _Do it again.”_

Emma grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, jerking him towards her. “I thought you were a good man! I wanted to work with you! I wanted to be your Deputy! And now you turn around and sleep with my—”

Emma froze.

What was she saying? What was Regina to her, exactly? A girlfriend? A wife? What was she supposed to say? Her Queen? Her _mate?_ They weren’t animals! Anger festered inside her, spreading like wildfire. It only worsened when she saw the smug look on the bearded man’s bloody face.

“Your _what?”_ the demon taunted, “She isn’t _your_ anything! It is _you_ that belongs to _her!_ We all do, in the end!”

Emma grit her teeth and drew back her fist.

“Yes! That’s it! Hit me!”

But Emma hesitated.

“What are you waiting for?! I said _hit me,_ damn it!”

“Emma!” cried Ruby, “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Stay out of this, Ruby!” Emma snapped, “This has nothing to do with you!”

“Get away from him!”

“You don’t know what he did!”

“No, but whatever it is, I’m sure it doesn’t warrant _this!”_

The Huntsman laughed. “Oh, I disagree. Keep it up, Swan! Pick up the gun from my belt! Shoot me! I’ve never been shot before! Put a bullet between my eyes!”

“Emma, no!” shouted Ruby.

“Emma, _yes!”_ shouted the Huntsman.

The blonde let out a strangled cry of fury, throwing the demon back into the booth. Her fists were clenched so hard that her knuckles were white. Her rage only grew worse when she saw the devilish grin spreading across the Huntsman’s bearded face.

“I’ve really got your blood boiling, haven’t I?” he taunted, “Sounds hot.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Emma hissed.

“I’m a demon. Pain is what I live for. I was created specifically to be Her Majesty’s punching bag. Hunting souls is just my side-job. It is quite fun, but there is no greater thrill than being tortured. Now then,” the demon paused, smirking.

The Huntsman grabbed his nose and snapped it back into place like it was nothing. The crack of the bone left the fuming blonde feeling sick.

“Shall we take this outside?”

\---

Emma shoved the Huntsman out the back door and into the alley, knocking him to the ground. He simply laughed and brushed off his shoulders as he stood back up. He moved his head from side to side, popping his neck. He started to reach for his gun, but Emma stopped him.

“Don’t you fucking dare! Everyone will know you shot me!”

“Oh, I won’t be the one doing the shooting,” said the Huntsman, “and you won’t be the one getting shot.”

He emptied the chamber of his revolver, leaving only one bullet behind, and tossed it to the bewildered blonde.

“Fire away, Swan.”

“You’re one twisted motherfucker, you know that?”

The Huntsman laughed. “It’s funny you should mention that.”

“Is this some kind of game to you?”

“Russian Roulette? Of course! I’ve never had the pleasure. There are no guns in Hell.”

“I’m not gonna shoot you!”

“Pity. I suppose I’ll just have to do it myself, then.”

“NO!”

“What’s the problem? Don’t you want me to face the consequences of my actions?”

“Not if you get off on hurting yourself!”

“Well, doing it myself is never as fun as putting the knife in someone else’s hand— or in this case, the gun.”

Before Emma could even think to respond, the Horned Queen appeared between her and the Huntsman in a plume of purple mist. She was in her human form, but her eyes were glowing purple.

“Miss Swan!”

“Regina? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I know you’re upset, but—”

“I’m not ‘upset,’ Regina, I’m fucking _furious!_ I was really starting to trust you! You told me you loved me! And I was stupid enough to believe it!”

“Please, Em—”

“NO! Don’t you _dare_ say my name! You fucked this sick freak behind my back! I’m not about to let you fuck me, too! Never again! You’re a goddamn hypocrite, Regina! You said you punished the Hexer for sleeping with the Huntsman! Maybe I should turn _you_ into a wolf! Good fucking riddance, _Your Majesty!”_

Emma darted around the corner, leaving Regina speechless. The Queen could do nothing but stand there and watch, mortified, as her mate abandoned her. The Huntsman raised a quizzical eyebrow at her.

“Aren’t you going to stop her, Majesty?”

The Queen was lost in a thousand-yard stare. “What?”

“Would you like me to go after her? Hunting is my specialty, after all.”

“No,” the Queen said solemnly, “I have no right to hold her against her will, but she can’t leave Storybrooke. If she does, she’ll be putting herself at risk.”

“What sort of risk?”

“There’s a warrant out for her arrest. This is the only safe place for her. Plus, if she crosses the town line without me, she could _die.”_


	13. The Hatter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update.

Emma awoke with a gasp. She found herself in a dark room, tied to a chair with her wrists bound behind her and a piece of cloth gagging her. She looked around, panicked, but the only source of light was the flickering bulb hanging overhead. The light didn’t reach far. Beyond it, there was only darkness. She tried to stand, but her legs were tied to the chair as well. She could do nothing but sit there, alone and afraid within the darkness. The light should have lessened her fears, but it only seemed to make things worse.

One moment, she was running along the sidewalk, constantly looking over her shoulder for any sign of the Queen. The next, she was waking up in this black void. Where was she? Was she dead? Was this _Hell?_ Was the Queen going to punish her? What could she _possibly_ have done to deserve it?

_“Finally awake, I see.”_

Emma’s eyes widened. She didn’t recognize the voice, and that was what scared her the most. It belonged to a man, and it seemed to be coming from all directions. She squirmed in her seat, doing everything she could to try and break out of her restraints, but again, her attempts were futile.

 _“Don’t bother, Goldilocks. If you want out, you’ll have to use those divine powers of yours,”_ said the mysterious man, _“and then we can see what sort of Goddess you really are,_ Emma Swan.”

The blonde squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to block out the man’s haunting voice. She tried to focus on Regina. As livid as she was, she knew the only one who could get her out of this nightmare was the Goddess of Death.

_“I know all about you and the Queen. You’re covered in her scent. It’s quite nauseating, really. Do you honestly think she’ll come to save you? After you ran off on her? After you turned your back on her? You were right. She doesn’t love you. She doesn’t love anyone! Not even that half-breed brat of hers! Wait. He’s your kid, isn’t he? Why haven’t you taken him with you? You’re his true mother. Not that evil witch! She doesn’t deserve him! She doesn’t deserve you! All she deserves is to spend eternity in Hell, where she belongs! If you help me, we can send her there. You can pay her back for what she did to you. She broke your heart, didn’t she, Emma? Why not break hers?”_

Emma reluctantly opened her eyes and looked around apprehensively, unsure where exactly the unseen man’s voice was coming from.

 _“How rude of me. I forgot to introduce myself. In this world, I go by ‘Jefferson,’”_ said the man, _“but Her Majesty has always called me_ the Hatter.”

\---

“This is all my fault,” the Queen uttered, pacing back and forth in her office.

The Huntsman was sitting on her desk, watching her amusedly. His expression soon turned to one of displeasure, however, when that sniveling sycophant came waltzing into the room as if he owned the place. The Huntsman’s eyes narrowed.

“What is _he_ doing here?”

The man frowned. “Madame Mayor invited me, thank you very much.”

“Pity. Seeing you makes me want to gouge my eyes out— and _not_ in the fun way.”

The man shuddered, but turned his attention to the Queen. He was visibly smitten with her, the way he stared at her with those big puppy-dog eyes of his.

“So,” he said, “What was it you wanted to discuss? And does the Sheriff _really_ have to be here?”

“Ignore him, Sidney,” said the Queen. She handed him a shot glass full of a strange, crimson elixir. “I need you to drink this.”

“What is it?”

“Something that will help you see things more clearly,” the Queen replied cryptically.

Sidney seemed reluctant, but he took it anyhow and slowly brought it to his lips, downing it all at once. A look of sheer disgust masked his face the moment the bitter taste met his tongue. He clutched tightly at his chest when a searing pain surged through him. The glass fell from his hand and shattered upon the marble floor. He fell to his knees, staring at his trembling hands in horror as they began fading away into dust. He looked up at the Queen, mortified, and his dark eyes took on an icy-blue glow.

“M-Majesty? What’s happening to me?"

“I’m sorry, Sidney. I need my mirror.”

 _“NO!_ Your Majesty, please! Don’t make me go back there! I’m begging you! Anything but that! You don’t know what it’s like in there!”

“I promise, I will release you once you show me what I wish to see. I really am sorry, my Herald.”

The Herald’s body turned to blue dust and was absorbed into the mirror hanging upon the wall nearby. His pleas were cut short when he disappeared behind the mirror. The Queen and the Huntsman looked on expectantly, and just moments later, the ghoulish, blue face of the Herald appeared just beyond the reflective surface. He looked as miserable as ever.

“What is it you wish to see, my Queen?” he asked solemnly.

“Show me Emma Swan.”

The Herald’s face faded away, and in its place, the image of a terrified young blonde appeared. She was bound to a chair and gagged, visibly shaking as an all-too familiar voice rang out from within the darkness. The Queen’s fists tightened when she saw this, and soon, she, too, was shaking— not in fear, but in fury. She bared her teeth in primal rage.

“That _bastard,”_ she hissed, “I’ll kill him! I swear!”

“Is that—”

_“The Hatter.”_

The Huntsman leapt up from the table. “Shall I retrieve her, Your Majesty?”

The Queen nodded. “Yes, but I don’t want you going alone.”

“Tell me you’re not making me go with this sycophant!”

The Queen held up a hand, silencing him. “At ease, dear Huntsman.”

She held up a vial of crimson liquid.

“You’ll be needing the Hexer.”

The Huntsman stared at her in awe. “You want me to wake her up?”

The Goddess’ lips twitched with the faintest of smiles. “You have my blessing, Huntsman. Go and be with her. Just bring Emma back to me in one piece.”

The demon bowed his head in respect. “Thank you, my Queen. I am forever in your debt.”

And just like that, he was gone.

The Queen looked back at the mirror and waved her hand, releasing the Herald from his prison. She truly had no idea what it was like in the Mirror-Realm, but she certainly didn’t want to find out.

\---

The Huntsman darted back into the alley behind the diner, where he found Ruby leaning against the wall, taking a long drag from a cigarette. She jumped a little when she saw him, startled, and quickly swiped the cigarette from her lips.

“Don’t tell Granny,” she said quickly.

The Huntsman shook his head. “I don’t care about that,” he said, taking hold of her hand and lifting up the vial. “I just need you to drink this, Red.”

The waitress frowned. “I think you mean _Ruby.”_

“That’s not who you are. At least, it won’t be once you drink _this.”_

“What is that, Graham?”

“It’s a potion.”

“What? Are you serious right now?”

“Please, just drink it! We don’t have much time!”

“Graham, you’re scaring me.”

“Red, _please!”_

It came as a shock to both of them when the Huntsman slammed his lips against Ruby’s. The moment he did, however, the waitress’ eyes flashed from green to red, and red they remained. She stared at the bearded man in awe.

 _“Huntsman?”_ she whispered.

The Huntsman grinned. _“Red.”_

“How did you—”

“I don’t know! But it felt right!”

“What is it that has you so frantic, Huntsman?”

“Emma Swan has been abducted by the Hatter. Her Majesty demands we bring her back— in one piece.”

“What does he want with Emma?”

“She’s a Goddess,” said the Huntsman.

“What?! _Her?”_

“I know. Crazy, right? Get this, she and the Queen are mates.”

“I never imagined the Queen would find a mate.”

“I may or may not have fucked things up between them.”

“Is that why she was so pissed at you?”

“I may or may not have sucked the Queen’s cock.”

The Hexer smirked. “You sly devil, you. Have you no shame?”

“I don’t know the meaning of the word.”

“Gods, I love you.”

“And I you.”

The Hexer snaked her arms around the Huntsman’s neck. “Why don’t you fuck my brains out like old times, hm? Right up against this wall?”

“As much as I’d love to, we have a Goddess to save.”

“Right. Later, though?”

“Of course,” the Huntsman said with a smirk, “I’ll even let you tie me to Saint Andrew’s Cross.”


	14. Missing

The Huntsman burst through the front door of the Hatter’s estate, his eyes emitting a golden glow. The Hexer was right behind him, smelling the air for any traces of the insane demon.

“He’s close,” she whispered.

The Huntsman moved quickly but quietly down the long hallway. He paused when he reached the door at the end of the hall, hearing something shuffling behind it. Looking to his red-eyed lover, he received a small nod and slowly opened the door. The moment he did, he found himself peering down the barrel of a shotgun. In a fraction of a second, the Huntsman was sent flying back into Red as a shell pierced his forehead.

“Huntsman!” cried Red.

The Huntsman groaned, not in pain, but in pleasure. He locked eyes with the furious, gun-toting demon and smirked devilishly.

“Hatter, you _fiend,”_ he said with mirth, “Do it again, would you?”

The Hatter’s frown deepened. “I’ve got no time for your games, Huntsman.”

“Funny,” said the Huntsman, “I was about to say the same thing. Red, _now!”_

Red leapt up from behind her wounded lover, lunging onto the Hatter before he could even think to react. She sent them both tumbling down the stairs, causing the madman to drop his rifle in the process.

“Get off me, Hound!” shouted the Hatter.

“Don’t you _ever_ fucking call me that!” Red snapped.

“Or _what?_ You’ll kill me?” The Hatter laughed. “I’d like to see you try.”

“As much as I’d like to, that honor goes to Her Majesty!” Red grabbed the man by his tie, jerking him forward. “Now _where_ is Emma?” she demanded, “And _why_ did you kidnap her?”

“Figure it out for yourself, _Hound!_ Use that nose of yours!” said the madman, “You want to know why I did it? Well, that’s just too bad, because my lips are sealed!”

 _“And so is your fate, Hatter,”_ came the demonic voice of the Horned Queen.

The Hatter gasped, staring past Red in utter horror as he locked eyes with those of the Goddess. To say that she was livid was a painful understatement.

“Where _is_ she?!” the Queen roared.

“I’ll die before I tell you!”

A malevolent grin spread its way across the dark Goddess’ face. “Yes,” she said, “Yes, you most certainly will.”

The color drained from the Hatter’s face. “What? But you can’t kill me! I’m immortal!”

“You fool! Have you forgotten that I was the one who created you? I can destroy you just as easily! I’m the only one who _can!”_

“Please, no! I’m sorry!”

The Queen scoffed. _“Pitiful._ Step aside, Hexer.”

Red obeyed without question, glaring at the Hatter as she moved to stand behind the ferocious Queen. The Goddess approached slowly, spreading her wings wide and crouching down over the terrified demon. She grabbed him by his scarred throat, cutting off his oxygen with a tight squeeze. Her eyes glowed brightly, willing him to tell her exactly what she wished to know.

“I beheaded you once,” she said darkly, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t do it again.”

The Hatter’s eyes looked like they were close to bursting from their sockets. He gasped for breath when the Queen’s grip loosened, though only enough to let him speak.

“All I’ve ever wanted was your attention,” he reluctantly confessed, “The Huntsman was always your favorite. I have envied him since my creation. I tried everything I could to please you, Your Majesty, but it was never good enough! You always put _him_ first, no matter what! Now I have the upper-hand! I have your precious Swan! I have your full attention! Behead me if you want! I don’t care! That was the one time you actually acknowledged by miserable existence!”

The Queen let out a heavy sigh and closed her eyes. “You fool,” she said quietly, “Do you honestly think I never paid you any attention? You may not have had the same role as the Huntsman, but yours was still important. He was my plaything, but you, Hatter, were my timekeeper. Don’t you realize how special that made you? But look at you now. A pitiful, weeping mess— a hollow shell of the demon you once were— thinking you can betray me, and the moment I confront you, you cry and plead for forgiveness. And here I thought _the Herald_ was a sycophant! You disappoint me, Hatter.”

The Hatter started to shout. “Your Majesty, please—”

He was abruptly cut off when the Queen’s hand plunged into his chest, ripping the corrupted essence from his body. The moment she did, his flesh began fading into black, shimmering dust, enveloping the Queen briefly before vanishing altogether, along with his tainted life-force.

“What happened to him, Majesty?” asked the Huntsman.

“He came into existence because of the life I breathed into him,” replied the Goddess, “Now I have reclaimed it. The Hatter is no more.”

“How will we find Emma?” asked Red.

“Simple, my dear Hexer. I gave the Hatter my telepathy. Now that I have it back, along with his troubled memories, I know exactly where she is.”

The Queen walked deeper into the dark basement and ran her fingers along the wall, finding a small switch, and pulled down on it quickly. After a moment, a panel in the wall opened up, revealing a hidden room. It was undoubtedly the one Emma had been in, judging by the flickering overhead light and the old wooden chair.

Emma, however, was nowhere to be found.


	15. Operation Swan

“Majesty, _please!”_ cried the Herald, “You swore you wouldn’t make me go in there again!”

“I know, Herald, but what choice do we have? I need to find my mate! I need to apologize! She has no control over her magic! I cannot allow her to get hurt because of me! Never again! I’ve made one too many mistakes in my life!”

“There has to be another way!”

The Huntsman was exasperated by the Herald’s whining. “Man up, you spineless—"

The Queen held up a hand, silencing him. “No, Huntsman. He is right. There must be some other way to locate her. I promised I would not put him back behind the mirror. I do not wish to go back on my word. Never again.”

“Oh? And since when have you been propped up on the moral pedestal, Your Majesty?”

The Horned Queen turned to him with fury burning in her eyes. “Hold your tongue, Huntsman, lest you wish for me to rip it out!”

The demon smirked. _“Kinky.”_

Red placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head in disapproval. His face fell and he folded his arms defiantly, but said nothing. The Queen glanced at Red and gave a small nod of gratitude before turning away.

“I suppose I could use something of hers to locate her.”

The Queen transported herself to the mansion with a mere wave of her hand, but in her haste, she failed to consider that her beloved son might be walking into the foyer from the living room, frozen in utter terror by the mere sight of her.

 _“W— What?”_ he whispered.

His eyes were wide with horror. The thing standing before him wore a regal dress that looked as if it had been woven from the night sky, stars and all, and of all its beastly features, those eyes haunted him the most. Seeing them brought forth disturbing images of death and destruction, and yet, he couldn’t look away. He opened his mouth, but promptly shut it, unable to find words. The Queen stared back at him, equally-mortified. Guilt overwhelmed her when she saw the tears in her young son’s eyes.

 _“Henry,”_ she said in her demonic voice, _“it’s me.”_

But the boy was already on the ground, shaking almost violently as he pulled himself into a fetal position. It seemed this was the effect hearing his name from her ethereal lips had on his poor mind. Tears continued to pour from his bloodshot eyes. He was hyperventilating. Mortals went mad when getting so much as a glimpse of her. What effect would her true form have on the mind of a Demigod? The Queen gasped, horrified. She was at his side in a heartbeat, now back in her human form, but the damage had already been done. She touched his cheek. All the color had drained from his face, and his skin was ice-cold. The Queen was now weeping, as well.

“Henry?” she sobbed, “Henry, my sweet boy, speak to me! _Please!_ I am _so_ sorry! I didn’t mean for you so see me like that! You were never meant to witness my true face!”

Henry just continued to tremble, but he didn’t put up a struggle, even as the Goddess pulled him into a tight embrace, holding onto him as if never intending to let go. The Queen wept uncontrollably, something she had not done since she was cast into the Underworld. Even after millions of years, she had never forgotten how it felt to cry, nor the overwhelming pain that came with it, but in this moment, she realized that there was no greater Hell than hurting the ones she loved.

In all her days as the ruler of the damned, she had always found it far easier to hate than to love. The walls around her heart were built from impenetrable iron, cold as ice, and yet, this precious boy in her arms had made his way in. And now, so had his beautiful mother.

“Henry,” she murmured, “I want you to know that despite all the terrible things I’ve done, and all the people I’ve hurt, you were never meant to be one of them. You were never meant to see the face that lies behind this mortal mask. I love you, my little Prince. Now and forever. I hope you can forgive me someday.”

She pressed her lips to the boy’s temple, and as she did, a blinding light surged out from between them, stunning the Goddess and rousing her son from his trauma-induced haze. He looked at her with tears in his eyes, but there was no longer terror on his face. Only confusion and uncertainty.

“M-Mom?” he asked.

“Yes, Henry,” murmured the Queen, “I’m here. I’m sorry you had to see that. I came to find something of Emma’s.”

“Why?”

“She’s missing,” said the brunette, “and I need to find her.”

“Can I help?” Henry asked quickly.

The Queen was stunned. “You want to help me? Even after all this?”

Henry hugged her tightly. “You’re still my mom,” he said, “Even if you _are_ the Goddess of Death.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you, Henry.”

“It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean it,” the boy told her, “Now, it’s time for _Operation Swan.”_


	16. Our Magic

One minute, Emma was sitting in that dark room, bound to a chair. She’d heard a gunshot, and suddenly, there was a blinding light, and in the blink of an eye, she found herself standing in the middle of the woods near a creepy old well. She looked around, bewildered and out of breath. She couldn’t even _begin_ to comprehend any of this. She needed to get back to her car and get the hell out of there. Too bad she had no idea where she even was.

She froze when she heard what sounded like muffled voices coming from the well. The blonde trembled as she slowly peered down into the spooky well. It was deep— maybe even bottomless. It was darker than darkness itself. The voices began to get louder, but she still couldn’t make out what exactly they were saying. She pressed her hands onto the edge of the well and went to get a closer look, but the second she did, the blinding light returned. This time, she was horrified to realize it was coming from her hands.

And she couldn’t stop it.

\---

Meanwhile, the Horned Queen was searching for something of Emma’s when she sensed a powerful disturbance in the atmosphere. It was impossible to miss. Hell, it was intoxicating. It was magic, she realized, but not just any magic. _Emma’s_ magic.

“Perfect,” she whispered.

She transported herself right to the source with a mere wave of her wrist. There stood Emma, trembling near the old well as magic poured out of those beautifully-pale hands.

“Miss Swan!” she called.

The blonde turned around with wide, tearful eyes, staring at the Queen in fear and confusion. Her hands were shaking almost violently, and she looked absolutely terrified.

“Regina? What is this? I— I can’t make it stop!”

The Queen put her hands up as if in surrender, moving slowly towards the mortified young woman.

“I need you to take my hands,” she said, “Alright?”

Emma could only nod.

“Good,” said the Queen, “Just try to stay calm.”

In any other situation, Emma would have been extremely reluctant to let the Queen touch her, but right now, she knew she didn’t have much of a choice, and she would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t crave the Goddess’ touch. Even more powerful was the intense desire she felt for the Queen.

“I can hear your thoughts, Miss Swan,” said the Queen, “That’s your magic, trying to connect with mine.”

 _“W-What?_ I don’t understand!”

“We’re mates,” the Queen explained, “Our magic is attempting to intermingle. It wants to bind us together.”

When the Queen’s hands took hold of hers, Emma’s magic suddenly ceased to pour from her fingertips. Instead, it flooded the Queen’s veins, making the dark Goddess’ body radiate an ethereal, golden light. This caused Regina to change back into the Horned Queen. Her eyes slipped shut and her head fell back as she let out a deep, primal moan. The feathers on her wings twitched in excitement, not unlike the cock hidden beneath her dress.

“Regina?” Emma asked tentatively.

“Your magic,” the Queen moaned, “it’s— it’s _euphoric._ I knew it was powerful when I first sensed it, but this? This is entirely unexpected! It’s incredible! Never have I felt such pure magic! I— I’ve got to give you some of mine, my beautiful young Goddess!”

The Queen’s hands glowed purple, and soon, that energy started absorbing into Emma’s skin, making her veins glow and her thighs clench as a rush of slick heat pooled between them.

“What— What’s happening?” she breathed.

“You’ve given me some of your life-force,” rasped the Queen, “It’s only fair that I return the favor.”

They stood there like that for quite some time, just basking in the afterglow of each other’s ethereal magic, though neither one of them was sure how long, exactly. All they knew was that it felt right.

“Don’t think this makes up for what you did,” Emma said with a slight frown.

“I know it doesn’t, Em— Miss Swan,” replied the brunette, “but it’s a start, isn’t it?”

“I— I guess so.”

The Queen’s grip on Emma’s hands tightened, and she gave a soft, sullen smile. Her eyes were full of genuine remorse.

“I don’t blame you for being angry with me,” she murmured, “and I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me, but I can promise you that it will never happen again. I _do_ love you, Miss Swan. I know I messed up, and there is nothing I can say that will ever make it right, but my feelings for you are real. If I could go back and change it, I would, but not even I am that powerful— and I just want you to know that I no longer care about intergalactic domination. Sure, it’s a nice thought, but I’d rather spend eternity with you and Henry than ruling the entire universe.”

Emma hesitated, but gave a small nod. “Okay,” she said softly.

“Okay?” the Queen repeated, mildly confused.

Emma’s lips twitched with a faint smile. “I believe you, Regina.”

“Does this mean you’ll stay?”

“Yeah. I’ll stay.”

The Queen’s smile widened. “Wonderful. I love you, my dear Swan.”

“Love you, too, Queenie.”

The Goddess gave Emma a pointed look. “It’s _Your Majesty,”_ she said firmly.

Emma just laughed softly, responding with a gentle kiss. For the Queen, it was déjà vu, as a flash of light surged out from between them, spreading rapidly through the forest and across the land. The color drained from the Horned Queen’s face.

“Oh no.”

Emma frowned, puzzled. “Regina?”

“The curse,” whispered the Queen, “it’s broken.”

“Meaning?”

“The other Gods are awake.”


	17. Orange Beach

Emma stared at the Queen in shock. She opened her mouth to speak, but paused when she heard the whispering from the well grow louder. She slowly turned to look at the eerie well.

“What is that?” she whispered, “Where are those voices coming from?”

The Queen hesitated. “Those are the voices of the dead,” she said, sounding outright terrified. “I haven’t been around to punish them in some time. I can’t imagine what sort of chaos they’ve got going on down there.”

She scooped Emma into her arms like a baby, making the blonde blush.

“But we’ll have to worry about that later, my darling. Right now, we’ve got to take Henry and get out of here.”

“What? Why?”

'“Now that the curse is broken, the other Gods will stand in the way of my plans,” said the Queen, “and because you believe in immortality and magic, they will regain their divine power. I cannot allow them to destroy what I worked so hard to create.”

Emma was overcome with remorse. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? If I hadn’t kissed you—”

“No,” the Queen said quickly, “Do not blame yourself for this, Miss Swan. This is no one’s fault but my own.”

Changing back into her human form, she transported herself and her blonde companion to the mansion, where they found Henry sitting on the steps. He stood up quickly, sensing something was wrong.

“Mom? Is everything alright? There was this huge flash of light, like there was when you kissed me. What’s going on?”

“It’s the curse, Henry. We broke it,” said the Queen.

The boy’s eyes widened. _“Really?”_

“Yes. Now come on, sweetheart. We need to leave town, now.”

“What? Where are we going?”

“We’ll have to worry about that later. We just need to get out of here, before it’s too late.”

Henry just nodded, dumbfounded, and the Queen transported them all to Emma’s car, which, in turn, magically appeared at the edge of town. The Queen was in the driver’s seat. Emma was riding shotgun, panicking while trying her best to remain calm. Henry was in the back with all of Emma’s things, which the Queen had shrunken so as to make room.

“What’s gonna happen, now that the curse is broken?” asked Henry.

“The Gods will likely come looking for me,” replied the Queen, “Fortunately, it will take some time for them to regain their powers. In the meantime, we need to figure out where to go. Boston is entirely out of the question. It’s probably best we avoid New England altogether. Any suggestions?”

“Tallahassee?” Emma asked softly.

“Something special about Tallahassee, Miss Swan? From what I learned about you, you lived there longer than anywhere else.”

Emma tensed up. “Forget it. It’s not important.”

The Queen pursed her lips, trying to read the blonde’s thoughts, but she was shocked to find that she couldn’t. It was as if Emma was doing everything she possibly could not to think about it. The Queen decided not to press the issue any further. For now, anyway.

“What about you, Henry?” she asked instead.

“Orange Beach? I hear it’s really nice there.”

The Queen smiled. “That sounds lovely. Would that be alright with you, Miss Swan?”

Emma gave a tight smile. “Sure thing.”

“Orange Beach it is, then.”

The three of them rode on for hours. Emma and Henry slept on and off. Not wanting to wake them, the Queen decided not to use her magic. Furthermore, she knew that if she did, she would just be making it easier for the other Gods to find her.

And she simply couldn’t allow that.

She glanced over at Emma with a faint smile. She wasn’t foolish enough to think the blonde had forgiven her for what she’d done, but she supposed it was a start. Admittedly, she was looking forward to beginning a new life with her perfect little family. She turned her attention back to the road and reached out to the Huntsman with her mind.

_‘We’re headed to Orange Beach, Huntsman. Find us.’_

_‘As you wish, Majesty.’_

And then there was silence.


	18. Beach House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned on having them go to Seattle, or Tallahassee, but I decided they should go to Orange Beach, Alabama. It's my favorite place ever, hands down. I wish I could afford to live there. I went there last summer and it was the best vacation I've ever been on. It really is a beautiful place, with lots of great restaurants and gift shops. Of course, the best part of going to the beach is collecting seashells. :) Anyway, enjoy.

“Here you are, Miss Mills. I just know you and your family will enjoy the condo.” 

The realter dropped the key into the Queen’s hand with a pleasant smile, which she was quick to return, though hers was a bit forced. 

“Thank you,” she said, “and you’re right. We most certainly will.”

She turned and headed inside, where Henry was lounging on the sofa in the spacious living room. She offered him a smile— genuine, this time— and looked around curiously. 

“Where is Emma?”

“She’s out on the balcony,” the boy told her, “She said she needed some air.”

The Queen gave a small nod. “You wait here, Henry. I’ll be back in a moment to make us some dinner.”

“Aw, Mom, can’t we go out somewhere? To celebrate?”

The brunette pursed her lips. “I suppose we can,” she said hesitantly, “Where would you like to go?”

“I’ve been looking online. There’s a place called Bubba’s Seafood House. Not to be confused with Bubba Gump’s. It looks like a really neat place.”

“I’ll have to ask Emma,” said the Queen, “but I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

She ventured out onto the balcony, where she found her mate sitting at the table, staring out at the calm ocean waves. She sat down next to the blonde and followed the woman’s gaze. The ocean brought her a sense of comfort, though not nearly as much as simply being in Emma’s presence. She brought her hand to Emma’s, squeezing it gently. 

“Henry said he wanted to eat out tonight. Would that be alright with you?”

“Sure,” Emma said unconvincingly.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t wish to. We can always do it another night.”

“It’s fine.”

“Is it, really? You’ve been tense ever since we got here. This was supposed to be a fresh start for us. Would you like to tell me what’s on your mind?”

“I felt this connection with Storybrooke,” Emma said softly, “I guess it was magical or something. I don’t know. It just made me feel whole, but now I don’t know what it is I’m feeling. Lost, maybe? It’s like I’m not really here. Like I’m a figment of someone else’s imagination. Does that make any sense?”

The Queen’s grip on her hand tightened.

“Not everything makes sense, Miss Swan.”

“I guess you’re right,” said Emma, “and that’s what scares me the most.”

“You don’t have to be scared. Not with me.”

“I’m not scared of you. Not anymore.”

“But you don’t trust me, do you?”

“I’m trying to. It’s just hard.”

“And for that, I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”

Emma gave a small nod. “I believe you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I’m just overwhelmed by all this, you know? It’s a big change for me.”

“It’s a big change for all of us, my love.”

Emma tensed as she heard this. “Do you really love me?”

“Yes,” the Queen murmured, “I just have a hard time showing it. I never meant to hurt you, my darling. I got caught up in the moment. I know that doesn’t excuse what I did, and I don’t expect you to believe me. I just thought you would want to know.”

“I can tell you’re being honest,” said Emma, “It’s just hard to believe. Maybe because deep down, I don’t want to believe it. I guess now is as good a time as any.”

She turned to the Queen with an unreadable expression.

“I’ve been thinking about this ever since my fight with Graham. What are we, exactly?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, are we a couple? Am I your girlfriend? Your fiancée? Your wife? How does this whole ‘mating’ thing even work? What am I to you, exactly?”

“You are my other half,” the Queen told her with a loving smile, “It is difficult to put into words. When we mated, I marked you as mine. My essence dwells inside you. That is what binds us together, my love.”

Emma hesitated for a moment, looking uncertain. “Regina?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you think that we could, I don’t know, go down to the beach tonight? There’s nothing quite as satisfying as walking through the sand in the dark. Well, I’m sure it’ll be even better with you there.”

The Queen’s eyes gleamed with affection. “Of course we can,” she murmured, “I swear to you, Miss Swan, I will gather the most perfect shells for you, and I will thread them together to make the perfect necklace for you, my dearest love.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile at the thought. “That sounds nice. I’d like that a lot.”

Before the Queen could respond, Emma’s stomach let out a mighty roar. Both of them laughed quietly. 

“Looks like someone’s famished. Are you sure you don’t want to go out tonight?”

“I think I can handle it,” said Emma, “Anywhere in particular you wanna go?”

“Henry suggested Bubba’s Seafood House.”

Emma’s smile widened. “Sounds good to me.”


	19. Maleficent

It was the middle of the night. Henry had gone to bed hours ago. Emma and the Queen were walking along the beach, hand in hand, just enjoying one another’s silence. The moon was full, shining down on them and bathing them in its ethereal light. Emma paused to admire it with a soft smile gracing her lips. The Queen stopped and turned to look at her, following her gaze.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” asked the Queen.

“Yeah,” Emma said quietly.

“The humans often used to associate me with the moon and the stars. Many of them were convinced that the moon was my watchful eye, and that the stars were the souls of their loved ones, awaiting them in the afterlife. Not everyone believed that I would punish them for their sins. Some did. Others just didn’t want to. They wanted to believe they were good, and for the most part, they were, but we all have flaws. Some more than others.”

“If you’re a punisher of evil, doesn’t that make you a hero?”

The Queen let out a halfhearted chuckle. “I’ve heard it all before, Miss Swan. Trust me. I’m no hero. I deserve as much punishment as I dole out,” she said, “but who is going to torture the torturer?”

“You’re wrong, you know,” Emma told her, “I won’t pretend to know what it was that got you in this situation, but I can see that you don’t really enjoy hurting people.”

“No,” said the Queen, “I _do_ enjoy hurting people.” She paused, looking at Emma remorsefully. “It’s you I don’t enjoy hurting. You and our boy.”

She fully-expected Emma to protest— to argue that Henry wasn’t ‘their’ anything— but she was left speechless when the blonde suddenly reached out and pulled her into a tight embrace. She slowly returned the gesture, feeling completely at a loss for words. They stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity, though it couldn’t have been more than a minute.

“Regina?” Emma finally asked.

“Yes, Miss Swan?”

“Thanks.”

A faint smile graced the Queen’s lips. “You’re welcome.”

\---

Emma fell into bed with the Queen, curling up against the brunette and allowing herself to find comfort in the woman’s presence. The Goddess embraced her with loving arms, holding her close.

“Emma?” the Queen murmured.

“Yeah?”

“I brought all the things from my vault with me.”

“Your vault?”

“The chamber beneath the mausoleum back in Storybrooke.”

“You have a secret lair? Is that why Graham was so adamant about stopping me?”

“Well, at the time, he was just doing his job as a policeman,” said the Queen, “but I admit, I didn’t want anyone to know about it at the time.”

“Then why tell me now?”

“Because, my dear,” the brunette said softly, “I don’t want any more secrets between us— which is why I need to tell you about the cube.”

Emma frowned in confusion. “The cube?”

“An enchanted prison I forged in the Underworld. I used it to trap the Dark One. He can never get out, or else we will all be in grave danger.”

“Who’s the Dark One?”

“The original sinner,” said the Queen, “He was the one who made me this way. He’s the reason I was banished to the Underworld. Thankfully, he was cast into the fire as well, so I chained him with the shackles of his sins and imprisoned him within the cube. He has been in there for eons, yet I can still hear his wretched voice from time to time. As bad as I may be, he is much, much worse. Letting him out will be the death of us all.”

“But I thought we couldn’t die.”

“Only a God can kill another God,” the Queen said, not meeting Emma’s gaze.

She tensed up and turned to lie on her back, staring up at the ceiling with a heavy sigh.

“Regina? What is it?”

“I killed a Goddess,” the Queen whispered.

Emma’s eyes widened. “What? Who?”

“Maleficent. She often took the form of a dragon. I always called her _Mal._ She was my friend,” said the Queen, “and I killed her.”

“Can I ask why?”

“She was mischievous, like me. The Dark One tried to lure her to his side, and she almost joined him, but then he set his sights on me. He corrupted me, and when Mal saw this, she tried to get me to see reason, but I was too far gone. The Dark One convinced me that Mal was jealous of my power, and that if I didn’t kill her, she would kill me first. I actually believed him at the time. He had a way of persuading people to do what he wanted. Where do you think I learned that trick?”

The Queen hesitated.

“I ripped her soul from her body,” she said quietly, fighting back tears, “and I consumed her spirit. That was when I grew these horns. Her horns. Each time I look in the mirror, I see them, and I am reminded of the atrocities I committed. I am reminded of the friend I betrayed. She was my only friend, Miss Swan, and I destroyed her. It wasn’t long after I got my horns that the others cast me into the Underworld. I already had my wings. They were white once. White as snow. It was only after I was thrown into that horrid place that they were stained black by the ashes from the hellfire.”

Emma was silent as she tried to comprehend all of this. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

The Queen looked at her in shock. “Why? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Maybe not,” said Emma, “but I’m still sorry. No one should have to go through something like that.”

The brunette gently brought her arms around her young lover once more. “Thank you, little Swan. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

She instinctively pressed her lips to Emma’s, but quickly pulled away once she realized what she’d done. She turned her head away in shame, thinking the blonde was upset with her.

“Apologies,” she murmured, “I got a bit carried away, it seems. I just—”

“Regina,” Emma rasped, “It’s okay. I— I _want_ you to kiss me.”

The Queen slowly met the blonde’s eyes yet again. “You do?”

Emma gave a small nod. “Yeah.”

“Does this mean…?” the Queen trailed off.

“That I forgive you? I’m starting to. I just need you to promise me something.”

 _“Anything,”_ the Goddess said quickly.

Emma stared intently into the brunette’s hopeful eyes. “Promise you won’t cheat on me again. You say you love me. I need to know you really mean it.”

“I swear to you, my love, upon my own eternal life, that I— the Goddess of Death— shall never be unfaithful to you for as long as I live. I know I made a mistake, and I will do all that I can to make it right. I promise.”

Emma smiled faintly and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the brunette’s lips.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Whatever for?”

“For everything.”


	20. Aurora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning: character death

Emma awoke to the feeling of sunlight flooding through the window and bathing her pale skin in its pleasant warmth. Her hair shimmered like gold. She slowly opened her eyes and found the Queen was no longer in bed. She reluctantly got up and trudged into the kitchen, drawn by the sweet aroma of chocolate-chip pancakes. Her mouth watered and her stomach roared like a lion.

“Someone sure is hungry,” the Queen commented, flipping over a pancake. “I was so sure you’d be stuffed from all that shrimp you ate last night.”

Emma laughed softly. “Yeah, well, I can never have enough shrimp. Can’t have enough pancakes, either. That smells amazing.”

“And I’m certain it will taste even better.”

“No doubt.”

The Queen smiled. “How many would you like?”

“Let’s start with two and go from there.”

The brunette slid two hot pancakes onto a plate and set it in front of Emma as she took a seat at the counter.

“There you are, my love. Soft. Sweet. Hot. Just like you.”

A blush crept onto Emma’s cheeks. “Who are you calling ‘soft?’”

“You _are_ soft, Miss Swan. You have soft skin, a soft personality, soft hair, soft breasts, and an even softer—”

Emma suddenly cleared her throat. _“Ahem.”_

She gestured subtly towards the doorway, where Henry was standing in his pajamas, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Hopefully, he hadn’t heard their conversation. If he had, then maybe he wouldn’t figure out what exactly was being implied. The Queen turned back around, facing the stove so as to hide the embarrassment masking her face.

“So, Henry,” said the Queen, “How many pancakes would you like?”

“Two is fine,” the boy replied, making his way over to the counter. He climbed up into the seat to the right of Emma and let out a yawn.

“Did you get enough sleep, darling?” asked the Queen.

“Yeah,” Henry mumbled.

The Queen turned to look at him, but his eyes were closed and his head was hanging down as he started to doze off. The brunette met Emma’s gaze with a look of concern. Emma placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, shaking him gently.

“Hey, kid,” she said softly, “Maybe you should try to sleep a little longer. We’ll save you some pancakes.”

Henry’s head shot up suddenly. “No!” he said frantically, “I— I don’t wanna go back to sleep!”

Now the Queen was truly worried. She left the stove and went to comfort the boy, placing her hands on his shoulders ever so gently.

“Why not, darling? This isn’t like you. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to sleep in. What’s changed?”

Henry hesitated. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

The Queen pursed her lips. “Well, if you change your mind, just know that you can tell me anything. I love you, Henry.”

“Love you, too,” the boy mumbled.

The Queen seemed disheartened by this, but said nothing as she returned to the stove. Emma watched her with concern. It was clear that something was really bothering Henry, and whatever it was, it was affecting the Queen twice as strong. The brunette put on a mask of indifference and set Henry’s pancakes in front of him, watching him expectantly, but he barely picked at his breakfast. He hardly got through half of one before deciding he wasn’t hungry anymore. He then trudged into the living room, where he plopped down on the couch— still in his pajamas— and stared blankly at the TV as he flipped aimlessly through the channels. Emma and the Queen shared a concerned glance before looking back over to Henry.

“Miss Swan, a word?” the Queen said softly, gesturing to their new room.

Emma just nodded and followed after the brunette. Once they were in the bedroom, the Queen put up a silencing spell so that Henry wouldn’t hear them.

“Something is wrong with him,” said the dark-haired Goddess, “Not once have I ever seen him act this way.”

“It could be hormones or something.”

“He’s only ten, Miss Swan.”

“Yeah, well, some boys hit puberty when they’re nine.”

“Regardless, I don’t think that’s what’s happening here.”

“What are you thinking, then?”

“He clearly didn’t get enough sleep. Either that or he was suffering a terrible nightmare— one that extended into consciousness. If that’s the case, then—"

Suddenly, there was silence. The color drained from the Queen’s face and her eyes widened as if she’d just been stricken with a horrible realization. Emma frowned a bit.

“Regina?”

_“Aurora.”_

“Huh? Aurora? As in _Aurora Borealis?”_

“Precisely.”

_“…What?”_

“The Goddess of Sleep and Dreams,” said the Queen, “otherwise known as Aurora Borealis. Her truest form is what humans call the Northern Lights.”

“Wait, so the Northern Lights are the reason Henry’s acting weird?”

“In short, yes.”

The Queen threw open the bedroom door and rushed back out into the living room, and when she saw what was going on before her, she felt as though she’d just had the wind knocked out of her. Henry was cowering in the corner, where the Hexer was shielding him with her body. The demon’s fangs were bared in rage and her eyes were glowing red as they locked onto the translucent Goddess, whose hand was currently plunged deep into the Huntsman’s chest.

 _“Why won’t you die?! Why can’t I crush your heart?!”_ demanded the Goddess.

The Huntsman just laughed. “I haven’t got a heart to crush,” he said nonchalantly.

With a grunt of exasperation, the Goddess attempted to pull her hand away, but the Huntsman grabbed her wrist, causing her to gasp.

“Push it in deeper, sweetheart,” said the demon, “I’ve always liked it rough.”

Aurora grimaced. _“You’re demented!”_

She was able to rip her hand away, and when she did, the bloody hole in the Huntsman’s chest began to piece itself back together. The Horned Queen was seething. In her anger, she took on her beastly form and lunged at Aurora, knocking the translucent Goddess to the ground and squeezing the woman’s neck with her clawed hands.

“You bitch!” she hissed, “How _dare_ you come after my son?!”

 _“I was just— following orders!”_ Aurora wheezed.

The Queen scoffed. “Let me guess: from the two idiots?”

_“They’re furious with you! We all are! You cursed us!”_

“Only because you cursed me first!” the Queen roared, “I have been cursed for eons! All you people had to put up with was a mere twenty-eight years! You didn’t even know you were cursed! You had no idea how miserable you really were! I could have done worse! I should have! But I took away your memories! If anything, I blessed you! Now you have the audacity to use my son to come at me?! I don’t think so! If those idiots wish to come after me, then they’ll have to do it themselves! I will NOT allow you animals to use my own son against me!”

 _“He’s not your son!”_ snapped Aurora, _“He’s just a worthless, half-breed brat!”_

The Queen let out a cry of fury and backhanded the woman, leaving deep gashes in the other Goddess’ cheek with her black claws.

“Don’t you DARE speak about him that way! I’m going to send you to Hell, where you belong!”

_“Do that, and I’ll drag you down with me, you evil bitch!”_

“HEY!” shouted Emma. The blonde was in tears. “Stop it! Don’t kill her, Regina!”

“But I must!” the Queen argued.

“No! Do you really want to spend another minute in Hell?! Think about what you’re doing! Do you really want to kill someone in front of our kid?”

The Queen gaped at Emma in shock. She started to say something, but as she was distracted, Aurora managed to gain the upper-hand and push her back roughly. However, the Queen’s catlike reflexes allowed her to react quickly, and she tackled the Goddess of Sleep back onto the ground. Her eyes were glowing brightly, burning with immense, unabashed hatred.

“You should be thanking Miss Swan,” she said darkly, “If it wasn’t for her, I would not even be considering sparing your pathetic life. You disgust me, Aurora. You always have.”

Aurora scoffed. _“You’re just jealous because Maleficent and I shared something you could never have! You stole her from me! You don’t deserve to wear her horns, you monster!”_

“ENOUGH!” the Queen roared, “I didn’t want to kill her! She was my friend! I admit, I did desire her, but I respected that she already had a mate. I just didn’t respect _you.”_

Now Aurora was crying bitter, angry tears, and her teeth were clenched tightly in primal rage. _“I never liked you, Regina,”_ she hissed, _“but I hated you when I realized what you had done to her. What you took from me. When I learned of Maleficent’s death, I wanted revenge, but the others talked me out of it. They didn’t want me stooping to your level, and so I chose to honor her memory another way. I shed my physical body and danced in the sky for her, hoping that wherever she was, she could see just how much I loved her.”_

“What changed?” asked the Queen.

 _“I came to my senses,”_ said Aurora, _“and I realized just how badly I wanted to kill you. I don’t care if I go to Hell. I don’t care if Maleficent wouldn’t want this. All I care about is what_ I _want! Because of you, Regina, I’m all I’ve got! You took my mate! Now I’m going to take yours!”_

Aurora threw her hand out, and with a cry of fury, unleashed a powerful burst of magic directly at Emma. The entire world seemed to slow down in that moment. The Queen screamed. Emma gasped in horror. The Hexer wailed as the Huntsman threw himself in front of the blonde Goddess, taking the full blow of Aurora’s magic. The raw energy surged through him, lighting every last cell in his body on fire, and for the first time in his long life, the Huntsman did not enjoy the excruciating pain that tore through his ungodly flesh. His eyes were wide as he fell to the floor, meeting the Hexer’s gaze one final time, and he whispered:

_“Red.”_

Things seemed to speed back up then, and as the Huntsman’s body faded away, his dark essence returned to the Horned Queen’s body. She was overwhelmed with the intense need to endure pain and suffering. It had been so long since she’d felt the need to be punished. She slowly turned back to face Aurora, who was gaping at her in utter terror as she began to grow taller.

“You,” she hissed, “You destroyed my Huntsman. How is that possible? I am the only one who can destroy demons!”

 _“It’s like you said, Queenie,”_ Aurora taunted, _“Light magic and dark magic don’t mix. Too much light magic can snuff out the darkness, just as too much dark magic can snuff out the light. You were wrong to think you were the only one who could kill your_ disgusting _little demons.”_

The Queen started to say something, but she was cut off by the anguished, furious cry of the Hexer, who lunged onto Aurora from across the room with a long, black blade, driving it straight into the Goddess’ heart. Aurora gasped, staring up at the Hexer in sheer panic as blood oozed from her chest.

 _“W-What?”_ the Goddess rasped, _“How can this be?”_

“It’s like you said,” snapped the Hexer. She spat on the Goddess’ face in contempt. “Light magic and dark magic don’t mix. You were wrong to think you couldn’t be killed by a _disgusting_ little demon. See you in Hell, _bitch.”_


	21. Forging a Soul

The Queen groaned in delight as she devoured Aurora’s soul, acquiring the Goddess’ powers and knowledge. She was overcome with rage, not only because the two idiots had used her son to get to her, but because she’d obtained Aurora’s memories. As a result, she understood exactly what the Goddess had felt after learning of Mal’s death. 

The Queen tightened her fists in anger. Her body gradually morphed into that of a human, and she stared down at the floor where Aurora had been only moments ago. Now there was only a black blade, sticking in the middle of the floor. She pried it from the wood with little effort, and the blade disappeared.

“Where’d that sword come from?” asked Emma.

“From my hand,” Red explained bitterly, still grieving over the death of her demented lover, “Before I was a watchdog, I was an ironsmith. I forged instruments of torture for Her Majesty.”

The Queen didn’t need her telepathy to know what Red was going through. She offered a look of genuine sympathy.

“Don’t worry, Hexer,” she said softly, “I promise, I will bring back the Huntsman. I simply need time.”

Red’s eyes welled with unshed tears. Demons did not cry. “Will he be the same?” she asked in a murmur.

“I cannot say,” said the Queen, “but I will do all that I can.”

Red bowed her head in respect. “Thank you, Majesty.”

The Queen just nodded before lifting her hand, and a flash of purple filled the house. Everyone else looked around curiously.

“What was that?” asked Emma.

“A protection spell,” said the Queen, “That way, no more Gods will be able to get in here.”

“Mom?” Henry asked timidly.

The Queen knelt down before him, gently cupping his face. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Henry was shaking. “I’m scared,” he whispered. 

The Queen gave him a look of sympathy and kissed his forehead. “Don’t you worry, my little Prince,” she murmured, “Those animals won’t be able to hurt you anymore. Not while I’m here.”

He hugged her tightly. “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

The Queen’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “I love you, too, Henry.”

“What’s gonna happen now?” asked the boy.

“I cannot say,” said the Queen, “but whatever they throw at us, we will be ready.”

\---

Red was sitting next to Henry on the couch, watching some old cartoon she didn’t recognize. Admittedly, it made her a bit curious, seeing the colorful, winged creatures fly around and battle evil robots.

“What exactly are we watching?” she asked.

“Gargoyles,” said Henry.

Red kept her eyes glued to the screen, trying her best not to think about her beloved Huntsman, or how painful it was, watching him die before her after only just getting him back. Hopefully, the Queen would be able to resurrect him. She couldn’t help wondering if he would have the same wicked charm that drew her to him in the first place.

“You okay?” asked the boy.

Red hesitated. “Truthfully? No.”

“I’m sorry. I know you and the Huntsman really loved each other.”

“And how do you know such a thing, boy?”

“I could see it in your eyes,” said Henry, “The way you guys looked at each other. It was pretty obvious. I wish I had someone who loved me that way.”

“You will,” Red told him, “Someday.”

\---

Back in her monstrous form the Queen withdrew a portion of her soul, along with all the memories she’d acquired from the Huntsman, and conjured up an enormous, black hammer. She then began to forge her dark essence into the shape of a man. Emma looked on from across the room, fascinated yet uneasy all at once. 

“Regina?” 

“Yes, my love?”

“Does it hurt?”

“Does what hurt?”

“Hammering your soul?”

The Queen paused, turning to Emma with pain in her eyes. “Terribly,” she murmured.

Emma slowly approached her, not saying a word. The Queen set aside her hammer and met the blonde halfway. She took Emma in her arms and brought a hand to the back of the woman’s head. Her eyes slipped shut as Emma leaned into her embrace.

“But your presence heals me,” she said, “I am amazed that you have not fled from me, yet all the more grateful to have you by my side, sweet one. You and our boy. Our precious demigod. Which reminds me.”

She pulled back so that she could look the blonde in the eye.

“You still haven’t told me about Henry’s father. Who is he? What sort of life does he lead?”

Emma tensed. “I, uh, don’t like to think about him,” she said, “but his name is Neal. Neal Cassidy. I don’t know what he’s doing now, and to be honest, I don’t really care. I hope I never see that bastard again.”

The Queen felt anger flare up inside her. “Did he hurt you?” she seethed, “He must pay.”

Emma placed a hand on the brunette’s chest. “No,” she said quietly, “You don’t have to do that. I don’t know where he is, or what he does. I don’t care as long as he’s not around me or the kid. He never even knew I was pregnant.”

The Queen was visibly taken aback. “What?”

“He got me pregnant and thrown in jail for a crime I didn’t commit. He got away. I never got the chance to tell him he was going to be a father. Looking back, I can see it’s better that way.”

“He should be punished. This world’s justice system is flawed. In Hell, he would pay for his crimes accordingly. I would make sure of that.”

“If you don’t run Hell, then who does?”

“I’ve popped down from time to time,” said the Queen, “My vault isn’t just a secret lair. It’s a portal. Well, it was, before I sealed it with blood magic. That way, no one else can get inside, no matter how powerful they are. I’m glad you mentioned that. It’s time I went down for a visit. Would you like to join me, my love?”

Emma was clearly reluctant, but as she thought back to that first night, she relaxed a bit. She looked up into the Queen’s eyes with mild uncertainty. 

“Will I be safe there?”

The Queen offered a small nod, taking both Emma’s hands and giving them a gentle squeeze. A faint smile graced her lips.

“I will be right by your side, dearest,” she assured, “No harm will come to you so long as I am with you. This, I swear.”

“Okay,” Emma whispered, “I trust you.”

The Queen’s smile widened. “I’m glad.”


	22. The Underworld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay.

Emma was apprehensive, to say the least, about going back down into the Underworld, but she felt much less tense whenever she was near Regina. The Queen seemed to notice this and stayed close by. Emma watched from a safe distance while the Dark Goddess resumed work on the Huntsman’s new body.

“I sense your unease, my beautiful,” the Queen said without so much as looking at her, “What troubles you so?”

“I’m worried about Henry,” said Emma, “and us. I’m worried about _us.”_

The Queen slowly turned and extended her clawed hand to the timid blonde, which Emma didn’t hesitate to accept. The Queen pulled her young lover close, cupping the woman’s cheek gently.

“Worry not. I know I messed up, but I swear to you, my love, that I will never again betray your trust.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m afraid the other Gods— whoever they are— will find us, just like Aurora. I’m afraid they’ll hurt you, or _worse.”_

The Queen’s wings enveloped Emma like a warm blanket. “They will not be able to get through a blood-barrier. No God is that powerful.”

“Not even you?”

_“Not even me.”_

Emma hooked her arms around the brunette’s neck, and the Dark Goddess pulled her even closer. She nuzzled her face into the smooth junction between the horned woman’s neck and shoulder.

“I— I’m starting to feel kind of,” she paused, _“aroused._ Are you doing this?”

The Queen groaned. “Not intentionally. Being in my domain increases my power, as well as its effects upon others.”

“God, I— I feel so hot,” Emma breathed, “I need to get out of these clothes.”

The Queen’s eyes dilated with desire. “I would be more than happy to lend you a hand.”

Her enchanted cock materialized between her feline legs, rock-hard and throbbing almost painfully. She groaned in pleasure, stripping both herself and Emma with her powerful magic. They each shuddered in delight upon seeing one another’s flawless figures.

“You have such a beautiful body,” rasped the Queen, “I wish to make love to you, my sweet, if you’ll let me. _Please?”_

Emma could only nod. A bed suddenly materialized behind her, and the Queen hoisted her up onto it with care. The brunette started to turn her over, clearly intent on taking her from behind again, but Emma was quick to stop it.

“Wait,” said the blonde, “I want to try missionary, this time. I want to look at you.”

The Queen hesitated, but gave a small nod. “As you wish, my darling. I shall do whatever you ask of me.”

Emma lied back on the soft bed, moaning softly as the Queen’s hands pushed her legs apart. Her eyes slipped shut and she bit her lip when she felt that colossal cock slipping into her. The Queen’s clawed hands were now on her waist, holding her steady while beginning to thrust slowly— rhythmically— into her sopping cunt.

The Queen couldn’t help but moan Emma’s name, and even that was enough to make the blonde cry out in bliss. Soon, the Dark Goddess was pounding her cock almost violently into the young woman’s pussy. Her dark eyes burned with sheer desire as her throbbing shaft was enveloped in that warm, wet sheath. It tightened and tugged at her monstrous member, desperate to draw her in deeper. Emma’s legs were now hooked around her waist, bringing her even closer, and she continued to rut into her mate with all the strength she could muster.

 _“Emma!”_ she gasped.

The blonde screamed in breathless ecstasy upon hearing her name fall from the Dark Goddess’ lips. Her back arched up off the bed and she squeezed her eyes shut, all the while throwing her head back and convulsing as pleasure surged through her veins like wildfire. The Queen’s cock hit her sweet-spot with every rough stroke, pounding so hard— _so deep—_ into her tight, slick cunt.

“I— I’m not going to last much longer,” Regina said, panting, “Oh, Emma, my sweet. My darling. My love. You don’t know what you do to me! You’re making me come. I’m coming. I’m going to come! Gods, yes, _Em-ma!”_

_“REGINA!”_

Emma writhed upon the warm bed, her pussy clenching and quivering around the Queen’s enchanted cock as it pulsed inside her, filling her with its divine essence. She shuddered involuntarily, gasping and moaning while the Dark Goddess pulled her up so that she was straddling the brunette’s lap. She began moving in time with her winged lover, riding that ethereal cock as though it was a stallion.

They each rocked together in ecstasy, panting, moaning, and gasping with indescribable pleasure. The Queen sat up and held Emma close to her while the beautiful blonde rode her thick cock, milking her for all she was worth.

Neither of them lasted much longer.

They both collapsed onto the soft, warm bed, each of them spent. They lied there in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s company. They stayed that way for what seemed like hours (though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes) before the Queen decided it would be best if she continued to rebuild the Huntsman.

And rebuild him, she did.


	23. The Devil in Me

Emma was back in the beach house, lying in her and Regina’s bed. She was curled up under the warm covers, sporting only a shirt and underwear. The Queen was inhabiting her human form, applying just a touch of makeup and slipping into a pair of tight jeans and a sleeveless shirt. This came as a surprise to Emma.

“Regina? I’ve never seen you dress like that before. What’s changed?”

The Queen regarded Emma with a soft smile. “I thought that since we’re going through all these big changes, I should do the same. Plus, I thought you would enjoy seeing me this way. Judging by the desire in your eyes, it would seem I was correct in my assumption.”

She moved towards the bed like a predator stalking its prey, her eyes flickering from brown to purple, and then back again. A devilish smirk crept its way onto her crimson lips as she sensed the spike in Emma’s arousal.

“Do you want me?” she purred, “Hm? Do you want me to make love to you again?”

“A-Again? But, you just got dressed. I—”

Emma was cut off as Regina’s finger met her lips, effectively silencing her.

“And I can do it as many times as I need to,” rasped the Queen.

She reached down to cup Emma’s sex, causing the blonde to moan uncontrollably. This only made her smirk widen into a grin.

“Do you like that, _Em-ma?”_

Emma started to cry out, but was once again cut off, this time with a rough, searing kiss. She moaned wantonly, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt the brunette pull her panties to the side and slip those skilled, lithe fingers deep into her pussy. She gasped and whimpered, rocking her hips in time with the Dark Goddess’ hand.

Regina nipped at Emma’s lower lip before sliding her tongue into the blonde’s mouth, desperate to dominate her lover. Before she could even think to stop it, she found herself changing back into her monstrous form.

Her cock appeared, fully-erect and throbbing as always, and she let out a primal moan. It was pressing hard against the inside of her jeans. She gasped as she allowed it to spring free. Her legs cracked and popped as they shifted, causing her pants to rip open. Her wings burst out of the back of her shirt and spread wide in a show of dominance.

“I need to make love to you again,” she groaned, “Please. The devil in me demands it.”

Emma could only nod, as she was struggling to find her voice. She watched in awe as the Dark Goddess stripped her naked with a mere wave of the hand. She threw her head back and shuddered in delight when she felt the brunette’s lips envelope her tight nipple and begin to suck gently.

Regina’s voice rang out in her mind. _‘You are so beautiful, my sweet. Look at you. I have never had the pleasure of laying eyes on anyone quite this beautiful in all my days. I am truly blessed to have you as my mate.’_

Emma gasped when the Queen’s lips suddenly pulled away from her breast. Her eyes grew wide as her legs were hoisted up onto the brunette’s shoulders. She screamed in ecstasy as the Horned Queen’s monstrous cock drove into her slick cunt almost violently. She could feel it throb inside her, hitting her sweet-spot with each and every thrust. It was hot. It was rough. It was absolutely incredible. It was, dare she say it, almost _merciless._

Regina was on her knees, certainly not a comfortable position for her, but she paid it no mind. All she could focus on was how good it felt, burying her cock in this deliciously-tight cunt and releasing her divine essence deep into her lover.

She brought her hands to Emma’s breasts, kneading them and twisting the blonde’s stiff nipples between her clawed fingers. This heightened both her and Emma’s pleasure, and only drove her to increase the already-rapid pace of her powerful thrusts.

How she longed to bless this beautiful young Goddess with a child. She would have given anything to see the blonde’s stomach swell as their child grew within. She had an insatiable libido, a direct result of this monstrous cock. It seemed to have a mind of its own. It demanded a warm orifice to spill its seed into, and yet, the seed was worthless. It would never create life no matter how long— nor how hard— the Queen pounded it into her angelic lover.

_It was her curse._

“I’m gonna come!” Emma breathed, “Please— oh _fuck!_ Please, harder! God, yes! I’m so _fucking close!”_

_But Emma was her blessing._

The Queen did as was asked of her, grabbing at the blonde’s waist and angling herself so that she could pound that sweet-spot even harder. This made Emma scream and writhe upon the bed. Regina shuddered in delight when she felt the head of her cock meet the blonde’s cervix. She was so close. Maybe— just maybe— her seed would actually begin to grow for once, rather than shrivel up and die.

_If only._

\---

Emma got ready for the day, pulling on a tank-top and tying her hair back. As she did, she felt the Queen’s lips meet the back of her neck. The sensation caused her eyes to slip shut and a quiet moan to escape her lips. She leaned back into the brunette when she felt the woman’s arms encircle her midriff, pulling her close. The Queen continued to kiss at the back of her neck. Emma’s hands came down to rest atop the raven-haired woman’s.

“My love?” whispered the Queen.

“Yeah?”

The brunette hesitated. “I’m sterile.”

Emma’s eyes widened in shock. She stared up at the brunette’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. The Queen was looking at her as well. The woman’s eyes were full of sorrow.

“Shit, Regina, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I— I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t want to stay with me. Mates are meant to procreate, but that can never happen. Not with me.”

The Queen hugged Emma just a bit tighter, and the blonde offered a look of remorse.

“I won’t leave you, Regina. Definitely not because of that. I promise.”

A small smile graced the Queen’s lips. “Thank you, my sweet.” She stepped away so as to exit the bathroom. “I’ll be in the kitchen making dinner. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”


	24. Renewed

The Huntsman, now renewed, stood before Red with an unreadable expression on his face as he held her in his strong arms. She cried quietly onto his shoulder, hugging him tightly as if never intending to let go. He didn’t say a word. He just stood there in silence as the Hexer wept, but she didn’t seem to notice his odd behavior.

“I thought I’d lost you forever!” she sobbed, “I’m so glad to have you back, my love. You have no idea how much it means to me, seeing you whole again.” She raised her head to meet his gaze and smiled despite her tears. “Why don’t you and I have a little fun? Maybe snort some anthrax, or shoot a few nails up your ass. Whatever works.”

The Huntsman stiffened. _“No,”_ he said quickly, _“Gods, no.”_

Red looked at him in utter confusion. “What? But, you _love_ that. What’s changed?”

He brought his hands to her shoulders and met her with a look of utter dread. “I don’t want to subject myself to such things ever again. I’m not that person anymore.”

A look of sorrow masked Red’s face. “But, my love—”

“Red, _please._ It just isn’t what I want. Not anymore.”

The Hexer could only gape at her Huntsman in disbelief. “Gods above,” she rasped, “What has she _done_ to you?”

“She fixed me,” said the Huntsman, “She made me better.”

“You didn’t need fixing!” Red argued, “You were _perfect!”_

“Perhaps in your eyes,” the Huntsman retorted, “but love can often blind a person.”

The Hexer shook her head slowly. “It is you who are blind,” she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“Perhaps so,” said the Huntsman, “If you truly love me, then you must accept me exactly as I am. I am not the man I was before.”

“No,” said the Hexer, “you most certainly aren’t.”

Meanwhile, Regina was in the kitchen preparing stir fry. She had been slaving away at the stove all afternoon. The delicious aroma wafted through the warm air, causing Emma’s mouth to water.

“God, Regina, that smells amazing,” said the blonde.

The Dark Goddess smiled softly at her. “Thank you, dear.”

On the stove next to the stir fry was a large, steaming pot of macaroni and cheese, a dish requested by both Emma and Henry, who grinned almost madly at her when she started preparing it.

“Mom makes it the best,” said Henry.

Emma’s eyes were gleaming with hope. “Sure smells like it.”

Alongside the cheesy deliciousness was boiling corn, sizzling fish filets, and spaghetti, all being cooked with the divine power of magic, of course. There was enough food here to last them for at least a week. Maybe even two.

“Man, I don’t know what I’m going to eat first!” said Emma, “I’m so damn hungry!”

Regina shot her a pointed look. “Language, Miss Swan.”

Heat rose to the blonde’s cheeks. “Right. Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

Before anyone else could say a word, Red came trudging out of the room with her head down, clearly attempting to hide the fact that she was crying. Emma and Regina glanced at one another in concern.

“You okay?” asked Emma.

The demon raised her head and shook it slowly. “No,” she said, sniffling a bit.

“What’s troubling you, Hexer?” asked Regina.

“It’s the Huntsman,” Red told her, “He isn’t the same. He’s not himself at all. Will you fix him, Your Majesty? Please?”

“Well, I can try,” said the Dark Queen, “but there is only so much I can do. I restored his memory using the ones I acquired from him before the Accident.”

“Then why isn’t his personality the same?”

“Perhaps it’s because I gave him a heart this time.”

Red frowned. “What? Why?” she asked, “He’s never needed one before.”

“I did it so that his love for you would be stronger than ever.”

“Oh. Thank you, my Queen,” said the Hexer, “but I don’t see why this has altered his persona. It’s like he’s someone else entirely.”

Suddenly the Huntsman was standing in the doorway behind her. “I want to be the best man I can be,” he said softly, “for you, my love. I don’t want pain. I want to feel your tender touch, and your soft lips against mine as we make love.”

Red’s fists tightened. “I don’t do _tender,_ Huntsman. I’ll scratch you, and tear the flesh from your bones with my teeth alone. I’d sooner bite your lips then kiss them,” she said confidently, “and I don’t ‘make love.’ I fuck like a wild animal and scream like a Banshee—”

The Dark Goddess cleared her throat, giving Red a look of disapproval. _“Language.”_

Red huffed. “Sorry. Won’t happen again.”

She shoved past the Huntsman and disappeared into the bedroom once more, slamming the door behind her.

Regina sighed and shook her head. “She’s behaving like a child.”

The Huntsman stared down at his bare feet with an unreadable expression. “She is unhappy. She is ungrateful for what you have done, Majesty.”

He turned to go back into the room, but the door was locked. He sighed and headed over to the couch instead, gathering a blanket and a pillow from the wooden chest in the corner. He spoke, but there was no emotion in his voice.

“I will sleep here for the night.”

He laid down without another word, and a blanket of tense silence fell over the room. Despite the plethora of various, steaming dishes covering the stovetop, Emma no longer felt like eating. She met Regina’s worried gaze with a look of unease.

“I think I’m gonna lay down for a bit,” she said quietly.

“Are you feeling well?” asked Regina.

“Just a little under the weather.”

Emma headed into her and Regina’s room and lied down on the bed, pulling herself into a fetal position beneath the warm covers. She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, she was being spooned by the Goddess of Death. She blinked slowly, yawning as she glanced at the clock. Her vision was blurry, but the glowing red numbers soon came into view. _12:00 AM._ She turned so that she was facing the brunette and stared deeply into the woman’s eyes.

“I’m sorry I bailed on dinner.”

“It’s alright, darling. There’s plenty left, believe me.”

“So, what’s the deal with Red? Did she ever come out?”

“No,” Regina said softly, “but she’s going to have to, eventually.” She was silent for a moment. “I have a confession to make, my love.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“I purposefully altered the Huntsman’s personality so that he wouldn’t be so,” she paused, _“intense._ I didn’t want him attempting to seduce me again. I made that mistake once. I’m not about to do it again.”

“So you— you did that for _me?”_

“I told you, my darling, I would do anything for you.”

Emma’s stomach roared with hunger before she had a chance to respond. Both she and Regina let out a soft chuckle.

“Come, Miss Swan. Let’s get you something to eat.”


	25. Life Goes On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay.

Time went on, and things remained relatively normal. Well, as normal as things could be, given the fact that there was a house full of Gods and Demons. The only tension was between Red and the Huntsman, given the fact that he was not the same demon she had fallen in love with, and of course, she was till furious with the Queen for not ‘fixing’ the Huntsman’s personality. It eventually became so strained that Red, like a rebellious teenager, threatened to run away.

“Go ahead, then,” Regina said nonchalantly, “I won’t stop you.”

Red just glared daggers at her. “Yes you will,” she snapped, “You need me!”

“No. _You_ need _me,_ Hexer.”

“My name is _Red!”_

“Very well, ‘Red,’” said the Dark Goddess, “Just know that once you walk out that door, there is no coming back. You will have to make your own way in the world. However, if you decide to stay, I will take care of all of your needs.”

“My only _need_ is to have the Huntsman the way he was before!” cried the demon.

Regina sighed. “I told you, I can’t do that.”

“Can’t, or _won’t?”_ Red asked bitterly.

The Dark Goddess stood up, and she began to grow taller until she was staring down at the startled demon with her monstrous eyes as her horns protruded from her skull and her wings from her back.

 _“Do not test me, Hexer,”_ she said in her beastly voice, _“I do not answer to you. I am your creator, and you will not disrespect me in such a manner, lest you wish to be punished.”_

Red scoffed. “Punish me all you like!” She folded her arms in defiance and turned up her nose. “At least _someone_ wants to torture me,” she muttered.

 _“This will not be the delicious torture you crave,”_ the Queen told her, _“This will be the kind of torture that will leave you pleading with me to end your misery. That, I swear, my dear Hexer.”_

Red faltered a bit, but frowned. “There’s no greater pain than what I’ve already endured. I spent eons as a beast, only to be cursed, and now, you have taken away the one thing I want in life. I want my Huntsman back. This isn’t him. This is just a cheap imitation!”

The Queen sighed. _“He could be changed, if only you had that potion.”_

“…What potion?”

_“The one you drank to awaken you from the curse.”_

Red shook her head slowly. “I never drank any potion.”

_“What? Then how did you—”_

“He kissed me,” said the Hexer, “and his love for me was what brought me out of my slumber.”

The Queen blinked in surprise, slowly shifting back into her human form. “So he never even used the potion?”

“Nope.”

“Then where is it now?”

 _“Right here,”_ came a voice. It was the Huntsman, holding the small vial of crimson elixir. “I have kept it with me all this time.”

“What will you do, Huntsman?” asked Red, “Will you drink it? Please?”

The Huntsman eyed the vial curiously. “How can you be sure it will work?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

With a curt nod, the Huntsman removed the cork from the vial. He hesitated, only for a moment, before downing it all at once. His eyes flickered red, just briefly, and his demeanor changed in a heartbeat. He grinned, crushing the vial with his bare hand and causing the shards to penetrate his flesh.

“Ah, that’s more like it,” he said proudly, “I hope you can forgive me, Red, for being such a milksop.”

Red laughed, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight embrace, which he was quick to return. “All is forgiven,” she assured, “Just tell me one thing.”

“Anything,” said the Huntsman.

Red brought her lips to the shell of his ear. “How would you like to go out into this strange little world and see what sorts of debauchery we can get ourselves into?”

The Huntsman’s grin only widened. “I would like that a lot,” he said, “I’ll pack my things.”

Regina arched an eyebrow at the pair. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”

Red frowned at her. “Don’t try and stop us, Your Majesty.”

The Queen folded her arms. “Who said I was going to?”

This left the demons taken aback. “You mean you’ll let us go?” asked Red.

“I won’t keep you from your hopes and dreams,” said the Dark Goddess, “but I expect an occasional text or phone call every once in a while.”

Red laughed. “Sure thing,” she said.

“Stay safe,” said Regina, “and stay together. It’s a dangerous world out there.”

The Huntsman nodded. “We will keep in touch, Majesty.” He smiled. “And danger is what we demons live for.”

Soon, the demented lovers had their things packed and they left the house for good, driving away in the stylish black car the Queen had created with her dark powers. In truth, she was sad to see them go, but she wanted to see her favorite demons flourish in this strange world. Of course, she would never admit such a thing, but still, she would miss them both terribly.

* * *

 

That same night, Regina enjoyed a nice, quiet meal with Emma and Henry at the table. After dinner, they all went and sat on the couch— Henry nestled comfortably between the two women— and watched _Ready Player One._

Once the movie was over, Regina tucked Henry into bed and quietly made her way into her and Emma’s room, where she found the blonde walking out of the bathroom in nothing but underwear and a loose t-shirt.

The Queen smiled as she closed and locked the door. “My, don’t you look beautiful?” she purred.

Emma laughed softly, blushing a bit. “If you say so.”

Regina gently took hold of the blonde’s hands. “I _do_ say so,” she murmured, kissing Emma sweetly.

They both climbed into bed and curled up together after Regina switched off the lamp, shrouding themselves in darkness. Regina’s eyes illuminated a purple radiance in the shadows, which left Emma feeling somewhat entranced.

“Your eyes,” rasped the blonde, “I feel like I could get lost in them.”

Regina cupped Emma’s cheek softly. “It’s possible,” she whispered, “but know that I would always find you, sweet Emma.”

And they kissed.


	26. One Year Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW-- magic cock.

_One year later…_

Regina was sitting behind her desk upstairs, looking over some documents when she heard a soft knock at the door.

 _“Mom?”_ It was Henry.

“Yes, dear?” the brunette asked, opening the door with her magic.

Henry stepped inside with a look of hope in his eyes. “I wanna learn to do magic, like you.”

Regina chuckled. “Darling, I don’t ‘do’ magic. I _am_ magic.”

“Oh. Well, what about me? Am I only half-magic?”

“I don’t know about that, Henry. I must confess, I haven’t encountered many Demigods in my lifetime.” She tapped his nose playfully. “But of the few I _have_ met, you are certainly my favorite.”

Heat rose to the boy’s cheeks, but he couldn’t help smiling a little as his mother patted his face gently.

“I’ll consider teaching you, but I’m a bit busy at the moment, darling. Why don’t you go and watch something on TV?”

“Okay,” said Henry, “I love you.”

The Dark Goddess’ heart swelled with pride, and she smiled back at her boy. “And I you, my little Prince.”

Once Henry was gone, Regina closed and locked the door with her magic and reverted to her winged form with a heavy sigh of relief as well as pleasure.

“That was _close,”_ she rasped.

A quiet moan came from beneath the desk, where a pair of sea-green eyes stared up at her with desire. Knelt before her was her blushing blonde lover, whose lips were enveloping her shaft. She let out a blissful sigh and her eyes slipped shut.

“And _I’m_ even closer,” she purred.

Soon, she was groaning as her essence spilled onto Emma’s tongue.

The blonde couldn’t bring herself to swallow, so she spat it onto the floor, where it evaporated into purple mist. Feeling the Horned Queen’s clawed hand upon her head, Emma looked up at the brunette and slowly crawled out from under the desk. The Dark Goddess gazed lustfully at her.

“Would you like to sit down, my love?” the Queen asked, taking hold of Emma’s hand. A sly smirk graced her lips. “Perhaps on my cock?”

Emma’s blush deepened, but she nodded anyhow. She was rendered naked by the Queen’s magic and moved to straddle the brunette’s lap. She lowered herself onto the Queen’s enchanted cock and they each let out a deep moan as they rocked together in ecstasy. She could feel herself tightening around the shaft as the Queen thrust up into her, hitting her sweet spot and making her gasp in pleasure.

“It seems you are close as well, my darling,” the Queen husked. She waved her hand discreetly, casting a silencing spell over the room. “Come for me, _Em-ma.”_

Emma cried out in wanton bliss as her orgasm ripped through her, and she was left a writhing, quivering, gasping mess atop the brunette’s lap. The Queen held her gently as she came down from her sexual high. A soft moan escaped her when she felt the Dark Goddess’ lips on her throat.

“I love you,” she rasped.

The Queen gave a quiet hum of approval. “And I you.”

* * *

 

Regina shook hands with the real-estate agent.

“Congratulations, Miss Mills,” said the man, “The bar is all yours.”

The Dark Goddess smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Woods. Would you like me to pour you a drink? It’s on the house.”

The man smiled but shook his head. “Sorry, but I need to be at an open house in fifteen minutes. Thank you though.”

“Well, come back another time. The offer will still stand.”

“I’ll certainly keep that in mind.”

Once the agent was gone, Regina turned and waved her hand, changing her pantsuit into a pair of tight jeans, combat boots, and a _Ramones_ t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Her hair was now curly, as well. She smiled as she locked eyes with Emma and Henry, summoning an appletini in her hand and raising it high. She also provided one for Emma, and a glass of apple cider for Henry. The pair lifted their glasses as she did.

“A toast,” she said, “to the Poison Apple.”

Emma and Henry smiled. _“To the Poison Apple,”_ they said in unison.

* * *

 

It was opening night at the Poison Apple Bar and Grill, and business was booming. With the seats filled and the bar packed, Regina and Emma barely got a moment’s rest, but luckily, they had some top-notch employees working for them.

Henry was sitting in the office upstairs, drawing the characters from his comic books and putting them in new scenarios with other characters— essentially making his own fan-comic.

Down at the bar, Regina was serving beers to a couple of men in leather jackets. One of them was wearing gloves and an excess of eyeliner. The other had a red bandana around his neck and a kind smile on his face.

“Where are you boys from?” asked the Goddess.

“Tallahassee,” said the gloved man. He had an Irish accent. “What about you, ma’am?”

“My family and I moved here from Maine. I just bought this place.”

“I like what you’ve done with it,” said the man with the bandana, “It used to be a real dive, and the owner was a piece of shit.”

“May I ask your names?”

“I’m August,” said the smiling man, “That’s Killian.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you both.”

As Regina tended to the rest of the patrons, the two men watched her closely, speaking quietly to one another.

“Are you sure it’s her?” asked August.

“Positive,” said Killian, “Now we just have to find the woman and the boy.”


	27. The Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Super busy with college and everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Next one will be longer and have more explanation to clear up any confusion.

As Regina was driving Emma and Henry home, she sensed something was off, and unfortunately, she was right. The front door was open when it hadn’t been before, and the whole block reeked of a familiar stench. Regina was as furious as she was terrified, albeit grateful that her family was safe.

She sped away from the house as quickly as she could, enchanting the car so that no one would notice it. The last thing she needed was to draw the attention of the police, or the bastard who had broken into her home.

“Where are we going, Regina?” Emma asked, struggling not to sound fearful.

“I don’t know yet,” said the Dark Goddess, “but we can’t go home.”

“So you sensed it, too?”

Regina nodded. “I did.”

“Do you know who could have done this?”

The brunette tightened her grip on the wheel. “Oh, I know _exactly_ who it was,” she said, “I say we find the nearest hotel.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Emma. She looked back at Henry and found him asleep. Seeing this brought a smile to her face. Not wanting to wake him just yet, she turned back around. “What do we tell him?”

“The truth of course,” said Regina, “What else would we tell him?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t want him to worry.”

Regina casually reached over and placed a gentle hand on Emma’s thigh. “Nor do I, my sweet.”

Later, when they were checked into their hotel room, Regina and Emma lied together in one bed while Henry was fast asleep in the other. The two women stared deep into each other’s eyes, not saying a word.

Eventually, Emma broke the silence. “Who was it, Regina?” she whispered.

Regina hesitated. “The God of Fire,” she explained, “His father is the Dark One.”

“The Dark One? You mean the guy who got you exiled?”

“The one and only,” Regina said bitterly.

Sensing the brunette’s foul mood, Emma kissed her softly on the lips, which put a smile on her face.

“Thank you, my darling,” murmured the Dark Goddess, “You never fail to brighten my day.” She slipped her arms around Emma and pulled the blonde close. “I pray the Fire God doesn’t find the Cube.”

Emma frowned in confusion. “Cube?”

“The Dark One’s prison,” said Regina, “I created it as part of the Curse.”

“Where is it now?”

“I’m afraid I cannot tell you. If I do, the Fire God might try to extract that information from you, and I simply can’t allow that.”

Emma nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, “I trust your judgment.”

A smile tugged at Regina’s lips. “For which I am immensely grateful, my love.”

What they both failed to realize was that just across the street, sitting in a black car with equally-black windows, were the two men from the bar, watching their window through a pair of binoculars.

Killian lowered the binoculars and frowned. “They aren’t doing anything. I’m not picking up any traces of magic. You?”

August shook his head. “Nope.” He looked to Killian with worry. “Do you think she’s hurting them?”

“Unlikely,” said Killian, “The Herald said she was very protective of them.”

“And you think he can be trusted?”

“Personally? No, but the Boss seems to, and I’ve learned that it’s best not to question the man who signs your paycheck.”

“I guess that’s a fair point,” August said doubtfully.

Killian just laughed and took a drink from his flask, offering it to his friend. “Care for a swig?”

“No thanks,” said August, “I’ve never cared for the stuff.”

Killian shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He took another drink and pulled out his phone when he felt it buzzing in his pocket. “It’s the Boss,” he said before accepting the call. “Hello?”

_“Have you found them?”_

“Aye, sir. They’re at the Hyperion Hotel. Eighth floor.”

_“Great work, Jones. I’ll be there shortly. You and Booth stay put.”_

“Yes, sir.”

_“Oh, and Jones?”_

“Yes?”

_“Enough with ‘sir’ already. It’s too formal. Just use my preferred name.”_

“Of course,” said Killian, _“Neal.”_


End file.
